


Canine Connection

by Sing



Series: I Come Baring Gifts [7]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: AU, Clumsy Crane, Comedy, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Humor, I am not doing the whole movie, I'm told it's not strictly disney appropriate, Pongo is mischevious, Ratings may increase as I write, Romance, apparently I lied, however many chaps that this is still amusing, it may look like drama but its not, like 3ish short chaps of fluff, loose interpretation of G-rated, might be bordering on PG, only happy endings here, short and sweet, vague 101 dalmations crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2019-07-02 08:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 30,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sing/pseuds/Sing
Summary: Two dogs collide in the park, their owners too.Comments are love and air to breathe <3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [binkty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/binkty/gifts), [Sweetiedee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetiedee/gifts).



> I do not own Sleepy Hollow---PRAISE
> 
> I do not own 101 Dalmations, oh well. 
> 
> Uh. Maybe imagine if Ichabbie were illustrated cartoons, it helps me visualize this better lol.

"Perdy, Perdy come it's time for your walk. Perdita!" 

Abbie hollers and hears the gentle prancing of her girl trotting from down the hall. Tail up and bouncing, ears perky, her lovely blue eyes shining bright. She butts her head against Abbie's leg and then sits primly. 

"Oh Perdy what am I going to do with you," Abbie chuckles warmly as she hooks the leash into Perdita's sparkly rhinestone collar. Abbie Mills isn't usually so frilly and frou frou, but for her girl? Her best canine friend? Sky's the limit. "Ready girl?" She asks and Perdita rises, gives a light shake and nods. Still smiling Abbie unlocks the door. "Alright, you choose the path today." 

* * *

Ichabod Cranes eyes have been skimming over the same passage for the last ten minutes, constantly broken out of his concentration by his dog, purebred dalmatian Pongo scrabbling at the front door. Whining. Moaning. All sort of fussy nonsense. "Pongo old boy just ten more minutes," he begs, making a note in the margins of the paper he grades, he reaches absently behind him for a book on a shelf, further out of reach than he anticipates as he  tips the chair back, "Just ten more---wha---oh!"

_Crash_

_"ROOW"_

_Ker- thump-thump-thump-thump_

"Oh---oof!---ouch!---Rah!---blast this infernal old---oof---shelf---oh," he moans on the floor beneath the pile of books, glaring accusingly at the shelf that gave way when he grabbed it in hopes to stabilize himself before the chair failed him. He hears Pongo charging towards him, sounding a raucous alarm. 

" _ROOW ROOW ROOW"_

"Pongo! Pongo boy I'm fine, oh, you fussy spotted oaf---I'm fine, I'm---ah ha---ha, ha, ha, ha oh Pongo, Pongo! stop it!" he laughs, pushing the happy canine off who laps at his face and fingers, ensuring his beloved human is alright. "I'm whole, silly thing, I'm fine." Finally Pongo relents and Crane shuffles out of the mound of books, rubbing at his forehead where he feels a bump is about to form. He glares at the shelf again, making a mental note to buy a new one and heaps the books on the desk. "On the bright side boy, I suppose it's time for your walk----"

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than Pongo bounds down the hall and returns, leash dangling, ready to go. Crane shakes his head, chuckling. "Efficient aren't you? Alright, let's get going." 

* * *

 

 Abbie and Perdita jog happily through the park, round the perimeters, cut through the centre, easily dodging around other citizens casually strolling through. They are nimble, they are graceful, they are, "Perfect," Crane sighs from where he watches on the bench. Pongo had all but dragged him this far and once in the park had tugged him forward to their usual spot. Pongo has an unusual affinity for people watching. So Crane plunked down, and Pongo sat beside him, dutifully, and they'd look out over the lake where the geese swam, and across from there, more people biking and running and coming and going. He scratches behind the dogs ears affectionately. This is just one of Pongo's favourite spots to stake out. And also one of Crane's. He can usually read for ten or fifteen minutes, enjoying the scenery----although he's been less enamoured with the bowing trees and trickle of water these days, as his eyes track the movements of the lovely jogger and her own graceful dalmatian. 

Crane had teased Pongo for being awestruck the first time he'd laid eyes on the pretty dog. They were on route to a bench when Pongo had performed and about face and had begun walking in the direction they had gone. Crane had scolded him and sat him down, saying it was rude to follow others. 

Was it rude to watch them however, well he hadn't decided. It wasn't until a week later when he saw the owners face. A small statured beauty---for she seemed the sort that would take umbrage at being called short---with springy dark curls pulled back from her face or piled neatly on her head, sometimes in twists or braids. Her brown complexion that seemed to glow with an inner light, even on a gloomy overcast day. He admired her ease of movement, and the trilling laugh he could hear down the path when her dog would suddenly bound a few steps ahead, forcing her to pick up her pace. 

"Perdita!" she'd call in a joyful reprimand before smoothly adjusting to the new speed. 

"Absolutely stunning," Crane murmurs again, as distracted watching them as Pongo. He's so preoccupied admiring them in the distance he entirely misses when they round the corner and they're about to pass right in front of him. 

There's more slack on Pongo's leash than is wise. 

His legs are crossed primly and he's wearing his sensible loafers and jacket. 

When his arm suddenly jerks to the right, he lurches off the bench, scarcely breaking a fall with his free hand before Pongo is off like a shot, and taking Crane along with him in hot pursuit of the lady and her dog. "Pongo! Pongo Heel! Stop!" 

"oh!"

"My word."

"Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry, excuse me! Pongo Stop!" he yells, flailing behind his enthusiastic dog who is determined to catch up to the pair today, at risk to all other pedestrians and perhaps Crane's own life. "You'll have your leash for supper I swear it if you don't slow down----" 

Pongo stops abruptly, but it's too late, the forward momentum sends Crane careening forward into another body. 

"Whoa!" she exclaims, bracing the leaning tower that topples into her. 

"I'm terribly sorr---whoa!"

"Perdita!" the voice scolds. 

Crane's heart sinks. That voice. It's the voice with the charming laugh. 

He feels himself precariously held up but also very rigid and tight. He glances down and notices that theres a leash wrapped around both his legs and hers. Two of them. 

Pongo and his new lady love run around the pair joyfully, tying them up more and more as they go. 

"So sorry! terribly sorry!" Crane mumbles, catching at the woman's arms. 

"Perdita! Bad girl!" she continues and then finally looks up into his face. Dear Heaven she's stunning, he thinks. Those eyes, the symmetry of her face, her perfect lips,  "I'm sorry she's not usually like this!"

"I'd say the same of Pongo but that's a  _lie,_ " he grouses. Abbie distantly registers his eyes are blue, and the golden brown waves of his short hair, tousled and in disarray and how handsome he looks even flustered. 

They topple and teeter, grappling for balance. 

Pongo and Perdita, having thoroughly trapped their masters sit together, sniffing at one another and then glancing curiously at the human pair, wondering what sort of silly game their humans are up to now. 

 _What are they doing?_ Perdita asks.

Pongo huffs  _I wouldn't know, he's an absolute klutz mine is, love him to bits though. I'm Pongo, his names Ichabod Crane._

Perdita wrinkles her nose.  _Icha---_

 _Crane will do,_ Pongo assures.

_Mine's Perdita, her names Abbie._

At that moment gravity wins and the two crash to the grass with a muffled exclamation of surprise. The two dogs share a look and with wagging tails inspect their fallen counterparts. 

"Oh," Abbie moans, a hand to her spine. "I might need to see my doctor about that,"

"I'm so sorry a thousand apologies," Crane groans. 

Abbie's about to say  _something_ she can't quite remember what, but he's got grass in his hair and a few blades in his beard and the image is rightfully comical enough, the whole ordeal, really, that she begins to laugh. Her eyes crinkle with mirth and she throws her head back. Taking in their disarray, and her own contagious laughter Crane feels himself begin to rumble with chuckles. "Oh my what a mess, Pongo you rogue," he calls, but there's not heat in it. Pongo lolls out his tongue and licks Crane's face, perhaps to clean the dirt on Crane's nose, just as Perdita does the same to Abbie. 

"Perdy, Perdy, since when are you so ill mannered, hmm?" she coos. Perdita cocks her head to the side  _am I the one who's laying on the ground with a man and hasn't asked his name yet?"_

Suddenly a hand is offered to her and Abbie looks up, taking in the whole of him proper. Hell, who makes this beanpoles clothes? she wonders and accepts it gratefully. His hand is warm and it dwarfs her own delicate fingers. "Thank you."

"The least I could do, Miss---"

"Grace Abigail Mills. But I go by Abbie."

"Ichabod Crane. This brute is Pongo."

"This is Perdita."

"If I may, I believe Pongo has a bit of a, crush, on Miss Perdita." 

Abbie would think Crane was feeding her a line if she wasn't witnessing the two dogs dashing and playing just a couple paces from where they stand. She raises a brow. She's well behaved and well socialized but Perdita is infamously choosy about her company, not unlike Abbie. 

"It would seem the feeling is mutual," She agrees, a smile gracing her face. "Maybe we should let them get together,"

"A scheduled promenade in the park perhaps. Much as I enjoyed  _colliding_ with you, Miss Mills---"

"Abbie," she insists warmly, brushing grass and dirt from his shoulder. 

" _Abbie_. As much fun as it was, I'd like to be dressed more appropriately for next time." he flashes her a smile that is all at once charming, warm and bright.  She takes in the  grass stained pants and giggles. 

"That sounds fair. Here, take my number."

* * *

 

Partings said Crane marches unruly Pongo home, his tail droops behind him, fearing a scolding but Crane merely pets his head. "Good boy." 

Ears perking up Pongo stands and nearly knocks Crane over in the hallway, licking him happily. Crane begins to laugh again. 

"Pongo! Pongo! Blast it!" 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little scenery! 
> 
> Abbie has a colourful bunch of friends. 
> 
> Crane has interesting neighbours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a fluffy fun hopefully charming fic. 
> 
> Time period? ehhh idk.
> 
> Lemme have fun and frolic here, alright? 
> 
> Oh and do you trust me? 
> 
> let's have some fun! ^.^

Abbie calmly walks Perdita home, humming a little to herself as they go. "Well Perdy looks like you've found yourself a boy toy, hm?"

Perdita glances sidelong at Abbie and turns her nose in the air. Abbie chortles. 

"Oh? Are we not talking about you prancing and rolling around with a dog you just met? Perdita," she coaxes. "You can't hide from me, I know you're smitten,"

_I'm smitten? You're the one who's been skipping all the way home_

"Well, Pongo seems like a perfectly, good boy. So we're going to get together again with Ichabod, hmm? how does that sound. You can spend more time with your new friend."

Perdita wags her tail and thumps Abbie's leg hard,  _as if you're not looking forward to a walk with that tall drink yourself._ she thinks smugly. 

"And well, I suppose, I've made a new friend too, who'd have thought. I wonder what he does for a living," she thinks out loud as they turn onto their street, bracing her self just a little for the slight incline.

Theres an ornate  gate here, shimmering golden F's that crawl along either side, brick and flowers in varied purples and blues sprout there, bordering it. Great beautiful green trees over hand on the sides where there's an Ivory sigh with black cursive lettering 'Fredericks Manors'.  The grand black gate slides across as they approach and Abbie hails the gate keeper wiling away the hours in the booth. "Thanks Reginald!""

The delightful man tips his hat. "You're Welcome Miss Mills."

 They  casually stroll through,  Perdita prances along beside her, breathing a sigh of joy admiring the sprawling, rolling, perfectly manicured green lawn. There's an immense fountain situated just beyond that Perdita tugs toward. "Oh Perdy no, you know you're not supposed to drink from the---"

"Evening Abbie!"

Abbie spins around and waves enthusiastically at the driver of the sleek black jaguar "Evening Kat---Kat is that you?"

The vehicle slows down and the red head tosses her locks over her shoulder with a trilling laugh. " Do you like?" she asks. "I got it this morning!"

"It's beautiful---"

"Come for a ride with me!"

"I've got Perdy---"

"Of course Perdita can come!"

Abbie raises an amused brow. " In your brand new luxury car?"

"Perdita is family," Katrina coos. "Aren't you Perdy? Don't you want to see how fast this thing goes?"

"Another time Kat," Abbie laughs. "We just got back from her walk, she needs water and food----"

Katrina scoffs playfully. "Always the responsible one. I'm not sure how you stand the rest of us, but bless you for trying. I'll come by later dear? Tea?" 

"I'll let you know, Katrina, but where are you zooming off to?"

The woman rolls her eyes dramatically. " After I take baby here for a spin I've got a dinner tonight."

"Oooh---"

"Oh trust me I'm going to be bored out of my mind.Some business gala,  but, what can you do," she shrugs nonchalantly. 

"You could not date a married man----"

"Ssssh! you'll spoil my fun."

"Oh, we wouldn't want to do  _that_ absolutely not."

"I'll tell you all about it tonight when I get back. Behave you two!"

Abbie chuckles, "Bye Kat, say bye Perdy."

Obediently, Perdita flaps a paw in Katrina's direction and Kat blows a kiss to the dog before taking off. 

"Later Reginald!"

"Later Miss Van Tassle," he drawls, bored with her exuberance. "I can't wait till she marries out of here,"

Snickering, Abbie continues along the sidewalk, her sights set on her house, sitting proudly centre of the cul-de sac.

It's the original manor that the development was named after, but it's been expanded and updated. The exterior, red brick and climbing ivy, an arched doorway, one of her cars parked outside, the other in the garage. Interior,  polished two floor, not including the finished basement,  six bedroom five bath, one half, a pool, a veritable field for a backyard that she is ever grateful to live next to a landscaping artist that has transformed the otherwise harrowing garden and yard into a perfect place to entertain, a patio, a gazebo, the fire pit, the jacuzzi. Inside, the wood floors, the stainless steel appliances, some places she kept the wood panelling for the walls because she liked the 'musty oldness of it' she'd told the interior designer who'd found her delightful. A chandelier bobs over head, just between the double grand staircase in the foyer, a study, her home gym, her office, the media room, her walk in closets, Perdita's room, her array of toys,----it's _modest_ but it's home.  

"Hello Abbie," 

Abbie glances up as she fits the key in the lock, waving at her neighbour headed out for a jog. "Honourable Judge Irving!" she calls jovially. She's answered by a disbelieving laugh. 

"You'll give me a swollen head."

"Is it untrue?" Abbie presses. "How are you enjoying presiding over your own courtroom?"

Cynthia Irving grins. "There aren't words for it, but Abbie, you know I---"

"Got to get in your run, I know," Abbie winks.

Cynthia blushes and ducks her head. "We'll talk later?"

"I think Kat means to pass by----"

"Oh, Well perhaps we ought to go out then----"

"Go for your run, Cynthia, we can decide later---is Sophie home?"

"Oh I heard her knocking about over there at some point today, had all the music turned up, she's lucky we're all friends. Bye Abbie!" and she continues down the path. 

"Chatty bunch aren't they Perdy," 

Perdita bobs her head and follow Abbie inside. 

"Honey I'm home!" she bellows, dropping her keys in the dish, shucking off her shoes and unclipping Perdita's leash. Freed, Perdita gives her self an all around shake and goes skittering into the depths of the house where suddenly Abbie hears her best friend cry out. 

"Abbie! Abbie come look I _told_ you she dances!" 

Rolling her eyes she jogs the short distance to the living room where Sophie is listening to music at much more reasonable volume while working on a thesis----however it would seem that Perdita caught Sophie in the midst of a study break. Abbie claps a hand over her mouth in astonished amusement. Sure enough, there's her Perdita, hind legs, tail wagging, eyes alight, performing a two step shuffle with Sophie who is absolutely tickled by her antics. 

"See!"

"I do, Perdita how long have you been hiding that trick from me?"

Canting her head in Abbie's direction she swears she can read the dogs mind  _a woman must have her secrets Abbie, surely you know that._

"Well I'll leave you to it while I get dinner going,"

Sophie and her pet are too busy dancing and enjoying each other to notice when Abbie shakes her head and saunters off headed towards her kitchen when her pocket gives a jolt. Her heart flies into her throat with such unexpected speed she nearly chokes on the abrupt excitement. "H-h-" she coughs politely to clear her throat, adjusting for a tone that is much more casual and calm and collected than the flustered woman down at the park. "Hello?"

"Miss Mills?"

"You're going to make this a habit aren't you," she cajoles. 

" _Abbie_ "

She shivers. I mean, if he's going to rumble it like that, perhaps we'd better stick to Miss Mills for a bit. "Ichabod, I didn't expect to hear from you so soon!"

"Yes well, I know my schedule but I'm unsure of yours, so I figured I'd best pin you down now so we can decide on a day and time?" 

Abbie leans against the wall. Eager, this one. "Friday afternoon?"

"My last lecture ends at three."

"That sounds perfect to me. Same park?" she teases. 

"Same park."

Is he smiling? Why does she get the distinct impression he's smiling over there? A thump against her leg tells her Perdita has abandoned her dancing partner and stationed herself beside Abbie while she takes the call. She pets her head and Perdita cocks her ear, as if trying to listen. 

"It's a date." she says. 

* * *

 

Crane licks his lips and winks at Pongo. "It is indeed." 

"Well, I've got to make dinner,"

"I'll let you go then, Abbie. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"I certainly will. Bye Crane,"

He feels his face flush, warmed by the familiarity of it. "Bye,"

He hands up and leans on the kitchen wall before he goes to the cupboard to grab Pongo's kibble. "You're going to see your lady love on Friday Pongo, are you excited?"

Pongo beams.  _as excited as you are to see Perdita's human._

"We'll have to be better behaved on Friday though, hmm? No taking off after strangers?" he arches a brow to convey his meaning and Pongo seems to look at him with equal challenge in his eyes. 

_I won't chase anyone, if you promise not to knock anyone or anything over_

"Here's your food, come on," 

Crane lives in an older stacked town house two bedroom, one bath five steps up to the front door, he drives a motorbike. The town homes are joined on either side. Curmudgeonly neighbour Henry Parrish with whom he plays chess twice a week. Caroline and Betsy Ross, sisters who sew, beside. On the other side of Crane,  a daunting tall man who speaks with a voice not unlike gravel and makes you think of rolling thunder---he works as a Funeral Director though he had rather vigorously insisted he be referred to as 'Undertaker'--- He keeps to himself, that one, and Crane is rather grateful, something about his too light eyes makes him feel as though the man is performing inventory of his soul. Probably envisioning what wood, lining,  what length Crane's casket should be. 

He tries not to tempt fate by bothering him. So much so he promptly forgot the man's name and has been wary of asking him to repeat it. 

He sets down Pongo's plate and the dog happily digs in and Crane takes a peak in the fridge and finds some takeout from earlier in the week. Grabbing for chopsticks---they always send an extra set for the amount of food he orders---he meanders back down the hall to the study and sighs looking upon the broken shelf. Tomorrow, he decides, grading now, papers tomorrow. He takes his seat at the desk, and tries to pick up where he left off. A futile task, because he keeps seeing Abbie's brown beautiful, perfect doe eyes looking up at him. 

"Ah, is it friday yet?" he muses aloud, a small smile gracing his lips he determines to focus. 

* * *

 

"What are you smiling about?"

Abbie spooks and Perdita barks sharply before she begins to whine with excitement and paw at the owner of the familiar voice. 

"Oh it's _you._ "

"What a greeting, yes me. Now tell me why you're looking so starry eyed, who was on the phone?  Who was it, who was it, tell me,"

Abbie sighs and opens her arms for a hug. "Danny dearest,  when did you get into town?" 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for your thoughts!!!! ^.^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> little bits and pieces of their lives.

"Just now!"

"But why are you here---"

Why, visiting my _favourite_ sister!"

 _"_ Your _only_ sister"

" _Beside_ my point." Danny grins jovially. Daniel, Redford, Reynolds---some uncle, born outside of the marriage of whom their father had been very fond, ----Mills, is Grace Abigail Mills, elder brother. By exactly one year and two months. He never lets her forget it, and frankly she often forgets he's supposed to be the elder. She embraces the well built oaf, he'd taken far too much pride in scaring boys away when she was in school, and pulls away to look him over. 

"Not a scratch on you, pity. I really was hoping they'd eat you alive." 

"Aww, sis, I've missed you too!"

Chuckling Abbie shuffles off from the foyer and trails into the kitchen. Danny takes a seat at the breakfast bar, watching as she mills about. "You didn't answer my question," she singsongs. 

Danny cocks his head to the side, Perdita imitates him. "Are you sure?" he queries.

"If you think for one second I bought you dropping in to surprise visit me Danny----and mama and daddy are just out on the lake----you're wrong," she smiles sweetly at her brother as he rolls his eyes. 

"Alright fine, you caught me."

"Why are you avoiding them?"

"You know how they are---"

"Proud of their boy?"

"Abbie----"

"Oh wait, I think I've got it," She sets the chicken on the counter and her vegetables and turns to him, clearing her throat and puffing out her chest like their father has often done. "Now, Daniel, you're getting on in years, and I'm in need of grandchildren, someone to take over the family business since you and your sister have so thoroughly discarded it," 

"I'm going to tell daddy about that impression of him," Danny warns with a smile tucked in the corner of his mouth. 

Abbie sticks her tongue out at him. "I bet they've got a list a mile long of men and women you should meet. Although, I'll tell you right now, they're my sloppy seconds" she grins mischievously. "I'm sure they sent me out with every bachelor and bachelorette in this town before deciding to pair me off with Luke----"

"And then you ruined it," Danny sighs, wistful. "I've never seen Dad so flummoxed, it was _beautiful._ " 

"To be fair, I wasn't alone in the ruining---Luke wanted out of the arrangement as much as I did."

"Well thanks to your rebellious spirit I'm up next on the list."

"Ahhh the race to produce heirs to daddy's fortune," she chuckles and turns back to her dinner preparations. "They mean well you know, they'd never force anything on us, or our children."

"I know I know---what are you making?"

"Roast chicken? You do still eat chicken don't you?"

"Yes but did you brine it?"

"Danny"

"You know I like mine after it's soaked in salt and sugar, no less than four hours----

"Do I look like mama?"

Danny pauses, head cocked thoughtfully to the side. 

"You're thinking too long," she leans over to swat him and he swats back. "Aside from running from mama and daddy and their hungering to hear the pitter patter of little feet----why are you here, really."

"Well I've moved up, I got stationed here in Sleepy Hollow!"

Abbie freezes, a premonition, a chill seizing the air. "Wait, so where will you----"

"Mind if I stay here for a while sis?" 

* * *

 

After dinner, napkins dropped on the table and Sophie leans on Danny's shoulder, Perdita lays on Abbie's feet under the table, they lean in and demand details about who Abbie was speaking to on the phone. 

"No one," 

_woof, no one my spots._

"No one' makes you giggle and smile?" Danny teases. 

"His names Ichabod Crane."

Sophie snorts and Abbie shoots her a glare. 

"I mean what a _lovely_ , handsome name." 

"He's tall. Blue eyed, a voice like.....warm, rich, chocolate, velvet, something decadent, his voice is decadent."

Sophie and Danny exchange looks with raised brows. 

 _just say you want to eat him, Abbie, it would be much more straightforward,_ Perdita rolls her eyes and turns over on her side. Abbie's foot absently rubs along  her fur, back and forth. 

"And you're seeing him this friday?" Sophie asks eagerly. 

Danny props his chin on his hands in perfect mimicry. "Whatever will you wear!"

Abbie folds her arms and leans back in her chair. "I don't know why I ever tell you two anything."

"Best friend." Sophie pipes. 

"Brother." Danny chimes. 

Abbie groans. "What I ever did in life to deserve you, I'll never know." she reaches for her glass of wine and then pauses as her brother whips out his phone, typing diligently. "What are you doing?"

"A background check of course.  How do you spell Ich---"

"A- bod, Danny, like when you find a murdered person and it's gross and you say "Ick! a body! but minus the Y"Sophie says helpfully. 

"I can't" Abbie laughs, pushing back from the table. "It's too much." 

* * *

 

 A racket at the door and Pongo sits up, barking loudly, annoyed at having his sleep disturbed. 

Crane bolts out of bed sleepily, lurching toward the front door. 

"Open up, open up"

"Parrish?" Crane calls. "Parrish what the devil do you want?"

"For you to OPEN UP, _insufferable prick,_ " Henry mutters. 

"Insufferable prick," Crane grumps as he ducks his head into the powder room to splash some water on his face, pushing his hair back from his forehead and knotting his robe. "What do you want?"

"You missed our chess game" he blusters past Crane and kicks off his shoes, shuffling inside and  landing a heavy meaty hand on Pongo's head in passing greeting. 

"Is  _that_ why you've woken me up?" Crane blinks. "Henry I teach in the morning."

"I know that fool, I didn't come over something so trifling."

"Then----"

Henry thrusts a package under his nose. 

Mouth twisting Crane unwraps it and then gasps. 

"Eh" Henry nods proudly. 

"Why are you only bringing this to me now!" Crane hisses tersely. 

Henry rocks back on his heels, considering. "It was more dramatic this way. Anyway, there you go, something to go in your precious archives, I know how you love to collect, damnable little mermaid you are."

Crane looks up and locks eyes with Henry's beady ones. "I could hug you, you know."

"Don't you dare do it, Ariel."

"Oh come here Henry, you're a big old softie after all to go through the trouble for me----"

"Ach!" Henry flails and hurriedly edges back out the door. "Don't touch me---"

"Henry---" Crane coaxes, following after him with outstretched arms. 

"I said leave me be! hmmph!" and slams the door raucously behind him. 

Alone, Crane strokes the weathered cover lovingly. Pongo nudges his leg.  _A pretty lady gave him her phone number and he's still this excited over musty books. Crane, you astound me. Whatever you do don't suddenly plan to walk us by there on friday, I already have a route in mind----_

"I wonder, do you think Abbie's a scholar, Pongo? would she be interested in something like this?" 

Pongo whines, affronted. 

_What did I **just** say?! _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it will be date night next update.


	4. Chapter 4

They spoke during the week, and had decided, later that afternoon, after they had fed their respective dogs and had a moment to unwind from their days, that six o clock, evening stroll, would be best. 

"Well, what do you think?"

Crane twirls around from the mirror. The button down white shirt, the casual dark wash jeans. Sneakers. 

Pongo snorts. 

_casual excellence giving way to function._

"We did say a walk, but I can't be too formal, or too casual, right? come on boy, give your old man a hand here."

Pongo grins dumbly at him and offers a paw. 

"Oh Pongo not shake paw, I mean help me---bah, listen to me, as if you understand"

 _I under **stand**_   _you are sartorially challenged---look the shirt doesn't, ah_

"Pongo, Pongo boy where---really?"

Pongo has gone over to the closet and nosed his way through until finding a blue armour shirt. 

Crane grimaces. "Pongo this is skintight,"

The dalmatian seems to waggle non existent brows at him. 

"Oh,  _oh_ ,  ** _oh! Pongo!_** " brows knitting as he wags a finger at him. "Are you trying to get me to set a thirst trap for Abbie? For shame," but even so, he is unbuttoning out of the white shirt and slipping on the armour which clings to him showing off every lean ripple of muscle along his torso, bulging along his biceps and putting clearly on the display the corded muscle, veins and strength in his forearms. "Now this doesn't go with the jeans, at all,"

_Finally catching on are you._

"Well boy, where are my shorts? hmm? Have you---oh." Pongo keeps nosing through until he finds the desired matching navy bottoms and unceremoniously drops them at Crane's feet. "You've just been watching me this whole time and decided I looked stupid but couldn't say anything before hand?"

With a shake and huff Pongo strides toward the door and lies down, crossing his front legs before him and staring at Crane pointedly. 

_Sometimes you're a slow study Crane, better to take the scenic route, you work it out eventually._

Eyes narrowed he shucks off the jeans and slips into the shorts."You and Henry deserve each other." He turns in the mirror and grimaces. "Well that leaves nothing to the imagination."

_Exactly!_

"I don't know, Pongo"

Without warning Pongo leaps on him, paws across his shoulders and Crane finds himself staring into clear blue eyes that strike him, remind him eerily of his own.  _Listen. You are a well endowed male. I am a well endowed male. You don't see me shirking and shying away from what I have, what I am. I am comfortable in my own skin and you should be too!_ ** _and proud!_**  

"Pongo," Crane says archly. "Down." 

* * *

 

"Green or burgundy Perdy."

Perdita sniffs both before tugging the sleeve of the burgundy suit.

"Excellent choice. Tank, or sports bra?"

_Bra_

"Is Perdy helping you get ready?" Sophie asks. "Are you girl? you helping mommy get dressed for her date?"

Abbie's blushes but chooses to ignore her friend fussing over Perdita.

"Well while she's getting all dolled up over there, what collar are you gonna wear pretty girl?"

 _She hasn't decided,_ Perdita sniffs.  _Have you any idea how long she's been sifting through her closet? We're supposed to leave in half an hour and she hasn't so much as looked in my collar drawer._

"Oh Perdy will wear her rhinestones, of course. Why break from tradition, hmm Perdy?"

_I'd prefer the red velvet, at least it would match your suit---_

"You and Perdita should match Abbie," Sophie coos, touching her nose to Perdita's who gives her a playful lick in turn.

"If you're not going to help me, have a look in her room and see if you find something that goes with burgundy."

Sophie bounds to her feet. "Come on girl, I'll set you up right for, what's his name?"

"Pongo,"

Sophie snickers.

Perdita whines. 

"Sorry girl, Pongo is a---"

' _"Lovely, handsome name?"_ Abbie teases. 

Wrinkling her nose, "that,"

 _I like it,_ Perdita switches her tail and ambles out after Sophie.  ** _Pongo_** _it just oozes out, it's playful, yet robust._

Alone, Abbie slips into the burgundy and black patterned spandex outfit with the matching sportsbra. It's supportive but ample on the cleavage and exposes a healthy helping of her toned abs. She fiddles with her hair, deciding to put it up before applying a swipe of gloss and a light dusting of blush. She hunts around for her runners, sleek, in black with lots of spring and before she's out the door, a spritz of Thiery Mugler's Aura on her pulse points. "Ready Sophie! Perdita!"

Perdita trots out gayly, Sophie swinging her black leash behind her.

"Oh don't you look nice,"

 _You too!_ Perdita winds around Abbie's feet, excited at how nicely they match. _We're going to make them **drool**  _

"They don't stand a chance," Sophie grins. "Have fun!" she calls from the top of the stairs. Danny pokes his head out from the kitchen where he's making a sandwich.

"Be safe! Keep your phone on! I'm going to be tracking your route."

"Danny don't you _dare!_ "

"Have fun sis. You too Perdita, give'em hell."

_But of **course** we will  _

"Alright Perdita, let's go."

* * *

 

Crane and Pongo spot them as they approach, waiting outside the park entrance. To be honest, they couldn't have missed them if they tried. The busy streets seemed to part for them, Perdita, a bouncing, proud vision, the red velvet collar standing out in stark contrast to her beautiful white fur, and seemed to bring out the sharp black in her spots. 

 ** _Woooof_** Pongo's tail twitches nervously and he bites at a paw.  _I should have worn a different collar, why didn't you pick a different collar Ichabod! Look at her._

"Well  _damn,_ " Crane whispers under his breath, almost hundred percent sure now that these particular bottoms were a bad choice. "How is it I feel underdressed?" he wonders aloud, taking in the saunter and sashay in her step, the way tendrils of curls bounce free from the bun on her head and around her face. Her eyes that twinkle, lips stretching into the glimmering white perfect smile and her wand waving to him in salutation. 

"Crane!" she calls, her gaze sweeping over him from head to toe. She tries not to stare but, he's given her so much to  _look_ at. She takes in the colour contrast of the navy to his skin, his lean muscles, the nice legs, and just  _wow._ They reach the pair and come to a halt. 

Beside her, Perdita smirks at Pongo letting him drink her in before taking the first step forward to offer a greeting sniff. 

_Hello, Pongo_

_Perdita you look lovely._

_Hmm, thank you. You look.....nice._

_My other collar is.....non existent._

Perdita pulls back and meets his eyes with her own before dipping her head to the side in what barely approximates a nuzzle. Pongo's heart rate spikes. The tease!

_I like your collar Pongo, it makes you look, **rugged.**_

_Oh yes I'm a real outdoor dog. Chasing mail men, cyclists, charging up and down mountain trails----_

_Oh is that so,_ Perdita begins to stride past him, lightly swishing her tail before his nose, amused as she watches him fluster.  _tell me more all about it while we walk. I do hope you can keep up._

"Abbie you look wonderful,"

She beams at him and steps forward, squinting at the material. "Is this black or navy?" she asks, a farce, but she wanted to stand closer to see if he smelled as nice as he looks and he  _does_. Her close proximity is a perfect excuse for Crane, he ducks his head and catches a whiff of her intoxicating perfume, layers of different notes shifting and complimenting each other. He lets one hand press gently on her back in a sort of almost but not quite greeting hug gesture and she gladly returns it as he replies. 

"Navy. Pongo's choice," he flashes her that charming grin again. 

"Pongo has good taste." Abbie concedes. 

Crane swallows, eyes tracking over her again, the colours that make her look vital and flush, and he won't pretend he doesn't appreciate the ripple of muscle on her abdomen, or the heaving curves of her bosom in her top. The matching sporty jacket simply rounds out the ensemble. He feels suddenly very grateful for Pongo's playful determined spirit, he might not be standing her beside Abbie if not his dog. So yes, he must agree, Pongo has  _excellent_ taste. 

Crane offers his arm. "Mind if I take Perdita?"

_Walk closer to this rascal? don't mind if I do,_

"Sure," Abbie offers the leash just as she slips her arm in his. With anyone else she might have laughed or scoffed at the notion of this very proper formal, intimate walk, in their sporty sweet athletic gear, but it feels perfectly natural to fall into step with Crane like this. Perdita and Pongo walk side by side together, looking a perfect picture. 

"They look nice together don't they," Crane murmurs. 

Abbie nods and curls her hand a bit tighter, looking up at him and he looks down at her, smiling. 

Pongo casts a glance over his shoulder to see the humans looking cozy as they stroll along. 

_They look nice together don't they._

Perdita looks as well, warmth and happiness making her tail flick.  _Yes, yes they do._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some chit chat for these four ^.^
> 
> Also thanks Thymelady, you know what for lol ^.^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave your thoughts!

It was a perfect stroll. 

Their strides perfectly in sync. 

"So what do you do for a living?"

"History Professor at SHU,"

"Oh, a scholar."

He arches a brow at her. "Do you like, scholars Abbie?"

"I do, Ichabod Crane. I really, really do." 

Sashaying side by side ahead of them Perdita conducts her own investigation. She likes Pongo enough, good breeding, charming, funny, street smart looking. But his owner, while it's clear he's besotted with Abbie he's a stork of a thing and her Abbie is so petite and precious. 

_Tell me about Crane, is he kind? is he nice?_

_Oh him? Proper, proper, proper, proper, **proper** , in every way you could stand. He is clumsy though, as you've seen. Loves books.  **Loves them** I hope yours reads?_

_Of course she reads! Every single thing she can get her hands on---_

_I meant no offence Perdita, but you wouldn't believe the amount of insipid women who to try to find themselves in his company, and they don't have the brains to go two rounds._

_My Abbie could go three,_ Perdita tips her head up proudly. _She's so smart!  Speaks three languages,_ _She can sing, she can dance, she can act.  two masters, graduated top of her class. She  has combat training----_

_Is she super woman?_

_Yes._ Perdita snickers.  _Abbie can do anything, regardless of whatever advantages or resources she may have at her feet, her fingertips, there is nothing she won't master and win if challenged._

_Are you the same, Perdita?_

_You know Pongo, you can call me Perdy,_ she demurs, batting her lashes at him. 

 _ **Perdy** ,_ he shoots her an eager toothy grin that makes Perdita shiver with amusement, swinging her tail against his as she bumps him with her behind.  _Well Perdy? are you as determined to win and take on all new comers?_

_Absolutely! but, I do find a certain **joy** in admitting  defeat to a  **worthy** foe, Pongo. _

"My father is in the business of trains and mattresses."

Crane blinks. "That is.....a very practical, although unusual bundling of----"

Abbie giggles. "I know I know, but daddy likes to corner the most profitable markets, so there we are. What about yours?"

"Long line of bookworms." Crane smiles. "Mum too."

"I forgot to ask, what brought you over here from London?"

"A bloody change of scenery and an escape from my father's tight knit affluent social circles."

Abbie stumbles unexpectedly but Crane catches her. "Are you alright?"

"Y-y-yes. You were saying?"

"The politics. He was friends with governors and judges, and they had this tight group and everyone knew everyone and there was scarcely any room to breathe or go about your business without having someone else mind it---" 

_"Ha ha! hahahaha!"_

"Abbie are you feeling well?"

"Actually could we sit?" she gestures to the park bench and with a whistle Crane gives the leash a light tug and the dogs prance over, deciding to lay across Crane's feet, paws touching and nosing at one another. 

"You look flushed, Abbie," Crane worries, without thinking reaches to touch her brow. He lingers a moment, assessing before withdrawing, landing his hand on hers instead. "You feel normal. Did you eat today?" his voice is full of concern and his thumb absently strokes circles along the back of her hand. 

"I did.....around noon....."

"Noon!" Crane yelps. 

_"ROOW"_

_"RRRRUFFF RUFF RUFF"_

"Whoa whoa, steady Pongo, Perdita girl, just me, steady steady." Crane soothes as the dogs go back to their intimate conversation on the pavement and he turns back to Abbie. "Noon?" he repeats. "I need to eat nearly four time a day. What kept you so busy today?"

Oh, I was on the tennis courts with Katrina and  _Judge_ Cynthia Irving today and then my brother, Daniel, FBI, was lending a helping hand while I organize a charity gala----I do alot of those----and I taught a yoga class this morning before taking an investment meeting---- "You know what, I can't remember! sometimes the day just flies by."

"Time flies when you're having fun, what is it you do Abbie?"

"You know Crane now that you've mentioned it I'm  _starving_. Maybe there's a vendor or----"

Crane holds up a hand politely. "Actually! If I may, Abbie, there's a dog friendly cafe, just south of here. Would you like to go? They have treats for our friends here"

At mention of snacks Pongo and Perdita both bolt upright and look at Crane expectantly. Pongo going so far as to prod Crane's leg with his nose, searching. 

"Oh dear, I've said the magic word haven't I."

Grateful for the subject change Abbie exhales and smiles brightly at him. "Looks like it. Lead the way Captain."

Crane sits up straighter. "I'll not lead you astray, Miss Mills." he stands and offers his hand, which she takes and he pulls her just a bit closer than entirely necessary, licking his lips he takes a deep breath. "At the risk of stating the obvious, you're stunning."

"The way your eyes lit up when I arrived said plenty," she teases, twining their fingers fearlessly. They fit so well, she thinks, feeling his long slender digits laying side by side with hers. The gentle squeeze he gives her hand, assuring warm comfort. "I'm free on Sunday," she says as they set off. 

Crane opens his mouth and then closes it, a flush creeping up his neck, glad that Abbie saved him the tedium of asking for another date. 

"I have a neighbour that won't mind watching Pongo,"

"And Perdita will be alright at home." 

Already agreed on their second date, they saunter to the dog cafe where Crane orders all of his favourites and few adventurous things for him and Abbie to share with decadent lattes and an assortment of cookies for Perdita and Pongo to nibble through. 

Abbie chuckles at the foam and whipped cream that gathers in his mustache and she dabs it off with a napkin tenderly, eyes twinkling. He scooches closer in the booth, until their legs are touching, knees angled towards one another, his arm draped along the back of the chair, fingers just out of reach to graze her shoulder. 

_Well they're getting along._

_Enough to see make arrangements for Sunday_

_Sunday!_ Pongo exclaims and nuzzles Crane's foot.  _Crane you sly dog! A second date in the bag already!_

Perdita cocks her head to the side,  _yes, didn't you hear them?_

_Perdita  I was far too busy admiring the asymmetry of your spots to pay attention._

Perdita turns her head coyly. _Oh, Pongo._  

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crane is on cloud nine.
> 
> Perdita has friends.

"What's got you with a pep in your step?" Henry grumbles from where he stands outside his door, a cup of coffee steaming into the evening air. 

Pongo bounds up the steps for a pet and Henry obliges him  _Crane and I had a date **and** he didn't drag her by the boring archives! we got biscuits! and Perdita said I could call her 'Perdy' the minx! Oh! And this casanova has a date for Sunday. _

"Evening Henry," Crane singsongs, taking each step deliberately, smiling to himself so much it's comical. Henry hides a smirk behind the rim of his mug. 

"That must have been some walk, eh Pongo?"

_A walk through heaven, paradise Henry, really and honestly, paradise._

"Earth to Crane," Henry waves. "Earth to Crane you mongoose you're going to walk  into your----"

_"Mrmph!"_

Henry glances at him sideways and takes a sip. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Crane backs away, rubbing at his assaulted nose, glaring at the front door he'd just dreamily walked into. 

"It'll match that bump on your head---really Crane did your mother never consider, oh I don't know, wrapping you in bubble wrap?"

Pongo huffs and snorts, turning his face away so Crane won't see him chuckle. 

"Of course it occurred to her," Crane replies matter fact as he rummages for his keys. "But Father didn't approve of broadcasting that his son is a little clumsy."

Pongo scoffs  _A little?_

Henry chokes and beats his chest. " ** _A little?"_**

"I don't know why I'm out here with you, I have a call to make."

"You just got home," Henry says, annoyed. That's the second chess game this week Crane's missed,but he's more intrigued by his neighbours odd behaviour than berating him about it.

"Yes, but I've got to make sure she got home safely."

" _She?"_

"Yes why---" Key turned in the lock and the door pushed half open Crane rounds on him. "Why are you surprised?"

Henry looks him over. "Not seen a woman come within miles of your door since you moved in. And you've got nice hair. Frankly I'd begun sizing you up for a nephew of mine---"

Crane blinks in astonishment. Unsure whether he's flattered or merely bewildered that the crotchety old man had been hankering to play matchmaker. 

"If it doesn't work out with her, let me know," Henry turns to shuffle back inside when Crane speaks.

"I think it might, actually, Henry, all the best to your him though."

"Someones sure of himself," the man turns around and rocks back on his heels, adjusting his glasses on his nose, interest piqued. "Well tell me then about this mysterious woman that waltzed into your life and simultaneously just broke my poor boys heart."

"How long have you been chatting me up to your nephew Henry?"

"Never mind that." Henry leans on the railing and gesticulates. "Well go on. Let's start with her name."

"Abbie Mills---"

" _Grace_ Abigail Mills?"

Crane frowns, "Yes, why, do you know her? "

"Oh you better come inside and tell me all about this one, you too boy I know I've got some snacks around for you somewhere."

"He just had biscuits at the cafe----"

 _He **said** he has snacks. Rude. _ Pongo strides confidently over the threshold and Crane has no choice but to follow. 

* * *

 "Evening Miss Mills."

"Evening Reginald."

Abbie breezes past, swinging a bag full of the dog cookies for Perdita who holds her head high, in a good mood. They both are. "Do you like him Perdy? Do you like Pongo?"

 _Is that even a question?_ she sighs.  _He's got the bluest eyes, but what about you, I heard you making plans for Sunday._

"It looked like you two were getting along, I'm glad. Can I tell you a secret Perdy?" she pauses in the street and makes a show of looking around before leaning down to whisper in Perdita's ear, as if sharing a great secret. Perdita watches her, amused. Abbie is poised, professional and the embodiment of her names sake, Grace, but when she's giddy and playful like this? It's the sweetest thing in the world. She cocks her ear eagerly to hear Abbie's confidences. "I think I like him!" she smiles. "He's brilliant, and so sweet, caring, but not just polite or friendly caring, like.....I think he'd have taken me to the hospital right then and stayed the whole night if I were really ill."

_If you had, you might have gotten a goodnight kiss when they released you. He'd have been so grateful you were alright._

Abbie straightens and they continue up the path home. As they approach they hear happy yipping and Abbie waves. 

_Perdy! Perdy!_

_Chauncey! Emilia!_

Perdita greets her two smaller canine friends. Emilia is a fluffy Bichon poodle, her ears and tail tinged an apricot colour. Chauncey, a mottled black brown with light fur. He's very convinced he's part yorkie and shih-tzu but to look him in the face Perdita suspects there's a bit of a Pug in there somewhere, he's got a smushed nose and big eyes---he's adorable. 

"Chauncey! Emil--oh! Perdita! ABBIE!" the young woman waves brightly. 

"Hi Karissa!"

Karissa Matthew is a musician, brown skinned, black hair twists pulled up in a tiny bun. Glasses forever slipping down her nose.  Bubbly personality, extravagant bold sense of fashion, hardworking, friendly as they come. All the dwellers of Fredericks Manors were forced to make her acquaintance----she got mixed reviews from some of the women---see, she caught the eye of the landscaping artist next door, Abraham Van Brunt. He went north last winter and came back  _besotted ._ She's been visiting with increasing frequency since.  For Abbie's immediate circle however, they all really like her and she's sees things with a freshness that lightens spirits. She's younger than Abe, too, a small point of contention 

"I'm just staying with Abe for the weekend. Can we get this bunch together sometime?" she gestures to the dogs. 

"Sunday! They can come over and keep Perdy company, Sophie will be home she can watch them."

Perdita swivels her head around from catching up with her friends.  _Sunday? That's our date!_

"You won't be there?"

"No, I have a date," Abbie grins. 

 _We!_ Perdita insists.  ** _We_** _have a date! Don't we? Abbie are you really going out with him again an leaving me at home? but---but----but what about Pongo?_

Karissa whistles. "Oooh. I'm going to have to share the latest with Abe---"

"You keep my business out of yours and Abe's business!" Abbie trills. "You coming to my yoga class tomorrow?"

Karissa wrinkles her nose. "Heck.  _No._ " she laughs. 

Abbie turns back to her door which swings open before she can put the key in. An unexpected face looms in the door way. 

"What's this I hear about Perdita  _dating_ and you haven't discussed this with me?" 

Abbie harrumphs. "I'm starting to think I run a hotel." 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slightly plotty chapter.
> 
> Meet the doggy daddy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no drama, just planning for shenanigans. 
> 
> comments please <3

Crane follows Henry into the living room and helps himself to a seat while Henry goes bustling back into the kitchen, returning with two tumblers and a bottle of scotch. He sets them on the table and pours for each of them before sitting back in the chair. Pongo looks balefully at Henry until he remembers himself and digs around in an innocuous jar masquerading as a geometrical ornament for a couple snacks and tosses them on the floor. 

Crane eyes him, "Careful Pongo or you'll gain weight,"

Pongo pauses for a moment and slowly, deliberately reaches out for a treat, and eyes still on his master, bites into it defiantly. 

"Obstinate thing," Crane huffs and reaches for his glass, but then slows, considering. He eyes Henry who seems uncomfortable in his seat. "Henry?"

"Go on." Henry takes a swig and sits back in the chair. "Tell me all about her. Start to finish, how you met, all of it."

Disbelief registers first, and then wariness. "......Why......"

"I'm interested is all Ichabod"

Now hold on a minute Henry never calls him  _Ichabod_  

Crossing his legs Crane knits his fingers together and regards Henry seriously. "Don't beat around the bush Parrish. What's going on?"

Another swig, removal of glasses while he scrunches his eyes shut and opens them again, several times, before replacing them and meeting Crane's inquiring gaze head on. "I knew her grandmother."

* * *

 

"Sophia Adelaide Foster!" Abbie bellows. 

"Yes mother" Sophie drawls, head popping over the railing. Abbie sidesteps in the front door and gestures at the man waiting in her foyer. All polished and pressed in his caramel overcoat and white crisp shirt. Grey slacks and burgundy brogues. His face that crinkles and dimples in several places when he smiles. She'd counted them once, when they were children, they'd always been close. Suppose that's why, when Abbie proved difficult with all of the others her parents had suggested she try dating, that Luke Morales had seemed a logical, almost natural fit. 

They'd fooled themselves to believe it was love. Soon, there were inquiries of where they were headed and then, there they were, engaged, like their parents expected, wanted. And suddenly with the future looming large before them, the reality that they had some how bamboozled themselves into thinking they wanted eternity, children, a life together---they abruptly realized neither of them wanted this. The engagement was resolved peacefully, with no small amount of whining and upset on their parents part---but they have remained, since, stalwart, true, good friends, like old times. 

And that's all very good as Luke was the one who gifted Abbie Perdita when the engagement was new. He'd brought her home from a shelter. She was so small. The previously family couldn't afford her. When they broke things off romantically Abbie kept Perdita, and Luke was very cordial and agreeable about the whole thing. Happily resigning himself to the role of puppy co-parent. Perdita will always be that small spotted bundle in his eyes, soft little nose and little ears, cradled in his arms. 

She's basically his baby. 

And Perdita is rather proud, and Abbie would say, too indulgent of Luke in playing the role of 'daddy's little girl' 

"Sophie you just let any and anyone run in and out of here these days don't you"

"He's your doggy daddy" Sophie says nonchalantly. "As if I was going to keep the man away from his pup."

Abbie rolls her eyes. "Whatever paper you're working on, I hope you ace it, while casually opening my house to every wandering soul."

Luke grabs at his chest and staggers back against the wall, wounded. "Wandering stranger! Abbie, I'm hurt."

Perdita leaps up on him and he begins to laugh, tousling and playing with her. 

"See? There's my girl. At least  _someone_ still cares about me around here. Don't you girl, yes you do, yes you do."

_Yes daddykins_

Abbie sighs. "Well what are you doing here? I thought you had....well anything else better to do than bother me!" she laughs throwing her arms wide. "Alright come on, let's get this part out of the way."

Luke throws his arms around her and lifts her off her feet with a swing. 

"Put me down!" she shrieks and is answered by Luke's robust laughter. 

"Well of course you know I come over to see Perdy on Friday's, and you're not here---the horror! my dismay! I was  _appalled_ that you'd forgotten. There it is, I thought, here's where it begins. She starts hiding her away from me, turning her against me, soon Perdy would hardly recognize her own father----"

"You wasted all of your parents money studying politics when you should have taken up acting." Abbie smirks. 

Luke ruffles and composes himself. "Anyway I pop by here and say, where's Abbie and Perdy? and Madame Librarian up there----what _is_ she studying anyway?----tells me you've gone out, on a date! and here I haven't even met the fellow!"

"The  _fellow_ is perfectly nice, Luke, not that I need to clear him with you," She muses as she trails into the living room and Luke follows after. 

"I wasn't talking about  _you_ Abbie, I meant Perdita! What's the young rogues name? Where's he from? did he attend puppy finishing school? Graduate top of his class like Perdy? I need to know Abbie, is he good enough for our Perdy?"

Feet kicked up on the sofa, flipping through channels Danny chortles. "I don't think mama nor daddy ever vetted our dates so rigorously." 

"Right?" Abbie rounds on Luke, and the ridiculous teasing grin on his face. "His names Pongo. Dalmatian, like her, lovely shiny coat, though I haven't requested his health records and training school certificates." 

Luke strokes his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose there's still time to check him out. Danny---see that you run a check on him, can't have just any run of the mill pooch sniffing around my girl----"

Danny salutes, "On it boss."

"Gee Luke, you're not the least bit concerned if who I'm seeing is good enough for me?" Abbie preens. 

Luke rests a hand gingerly on Abbie's shoulder. "Now Abbie you know, the only person who could ever be perfect for you, is me" he winks. "And I'm taken"

"I remember with increasing clarity every day why we wouldn't have worked out," she smiles. 

Luke beams at her before his eyes widen in shock. "Which reminds me! Why I _r_ _eally_ came today, is this" he withdraws from his coat a neat envelope. Abbie instantly recognizes the elegant scrawl on the front and turns it over to open it. 

"Are you hand delivering all of these?"

"Only for the closest friends and family----Fosters and your brothers are in the mail."

"Hardy har har" Danny guffaws. 

Perdita moves to lounge on the couch beside Danny while Luke leans over the back of the sofa to check what's on the screen. "I  hope you'll be able to make it. And whoever it is you're seeing too, you'll bring him around first so we get to know him?  Strangers at weddings can be  awkward....."

Abbie falters as she recalls Crane's earlier....thoughts on.....modestly well off people and swallows thickly. "Yes.....awkward."

"And I hope you're serious about him? Especially if Perdy is involved, I can't have you traipsing strange people and dogs in and out of Perdita's life you know Abbie it's not good for her upbringing, you'll muck with her ability to form attachments."

"Does he realize he's talking about a dog" Sophie interjects, spooking Abbie. "You're going to drive your children insane Morales. You're going to helicopter."

He opens his mouth to retort and then closes it. "........When you're right you're right." he shrugs. 

"Hey,"  Sophie asks, plucking the invitation from Abbie's grip. 

"Sophie!"

"Where's my invite Morales?"

"In the mail."

"Close friends and family get them hand delivered," Abbie retorts, snatching it back and hip checking Sophie out of her way. Sophie shoots her best friend a glare and plunks down on the opposite end of the couch from Danny, coaxing Perdita to lay her head on her lap. 

"What are you studying again these days Sophia _Adelaide_?" Luke queries.

"Call me Adelaide again and I'll shove your head up your---"

"Language in front of Perdy, please" Luke admonishes, Sophie gapes at him which sends Danny into hysterics. 

Abbie takes their distraction as an opportunity to savour the lovely floral stationary and enjoy reading what it says. They've all known his nuptials were coming up, but there's something about holding the invitation that makes it seem solid and real in a delightful, way, full of anticipation. Yes, she may already be envisioning Crane there with her in her bridal party dress. 

As soon as she tells him about the kind of company she keeps. About the kind of woman she is. 

One who funds charities and invests in the building of community centres and programs for children and humanitarian work abroad, one who donates to the humane society and yes, loves the arts and her smart friends.....and yes....all up in each others business. She'll tell him all of this, very soon. 

_You are cordially invited,_

_to celebrate the Marriage  of_

_Cynthia Marie Irving to Lucas Antonio Morales_

Certainly, before she asks him to be her date for the wedding. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? questions? Prophecies? I want to hear them all! ^.^


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh a whole bunch of things, lol. 
> 
> I had fun writing this one, hope you have fun reading it! ^.^ as always let me know!

Crane gets dressed by himself, this evening. Finished all of his marking early. Cleaned the house a bit----incase she wanted to come in for coffee.  Laid out his clothes, took a shower. He decides to play to theme however, and chooses a cobalt blue shirt, which brings out his eyes. He doesn't need Pongo's input to tell him that much. His black pants, a brown, worn leather jacket. He spends longer than he likes to admit fiddling with his hair. Wanting something properly tousled. His dress shoes. Sprays on a woodsy scented cologne before marching Pongo next door to Henry.

He whined at him.

 _Really? I don't get to see Perdy?_ _you're **leaving** me **here?!**_

"I'll be home soon boy."

_You're a monster. Don't **touch** me---keeping me away from Perdita like this, Crane how could you! After all I've done for you!_

"Be good for Henry, alright?"

 _You have betrayed me_  

"You have my number if something goes wrong."

Henry flaps his hand dismissively. "Are you sure you want to take your bike that way......is it safe?"

"Henry I ride to work every morning."

"I've seen you drive, is that supposed to give me comfort?"

"What are you so worried about----"

"Just be careful? Especially with the young lady? Does she know her chariot tonight only has two wheels?"

"You don't know Abbie, she has an adventurous spirit----"

"Keep her _safe._ Treat her _well_. The Mills don't like when their loved ones are trifled with."

"Henry, I would never. She's special, I can feel it."

"I'm sure you can. Look I'm returning Pongo to you by ten o clock, so don't make any plans for _hoochie coo_ over there"

Crane barks a laugh. "What?"

 ** _"You heard me._** " Henry growls before he  looks Crane over. "You look decent, well off you go. Say bye to your human Pongo."

_I'm not speaking to him._

"Bye Pongo! Bye Boy!---oh he's in a mood this evening. Anyway thank you so much Henry!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

With that Crane bounds down the steps and mounts his bike. He gives it a few revs and then he goes roaring into the distance, following the directions Abbie had given him the night before. 

Henry watches him go mournfully. Pondering the things he left unsaid from the night before. There was so much more to him and Grace Dixon than he had let on......he wonders. 

"Pongo boy, how about we go treasure hunting" 

 _I want to go **Perdy** hunting, _he thinks with longing. 

"Come, come help an old man rummage around.......I don't dare think it'll  go over well, but, if there's any chance for this bridge to be crossed, let it be now. Come on, there's treats in it for you" Henry wheedles absently. 

Tail drooping, Pongo lopes after Henry, dejected, but hoping snacks will cheer him up. 

* * *

 

"What do you think Perdy? Per---oh Perdy," Abbie rises from her vanity, fastening her earrings and shaking out her skirt. She had let out her twists and so fluffs the curls in the mirror. "Perdy stop sulking."

_You get to see your beau. Why can't I. What will Pongo think? He'll think I'm ignoring him. Why must you be so cruel!"_

_"_ "Your friends are coming over, Emilia and Chauncey, won't that be fun?" Abbie coos, casting her eye around the shelves for the right pair of shoes---ah hah. 

_You've got a gaggle of friends but you're still headed out to see Ichabod. Do you see? See how it's not the same?_

"Perdita," Abbie frowns. " You really like Pongo don't you." 

_You're not usually dense Abbie, of course I like him! As much as you like Crane! Maybe even more!_

"Next time you'll come with, I swear it, I promise. We'll let you two walk for ages. Maybe take you to the doggy park? where you can romp around a little?"

Perdita's ears perk up on  _romp around---_ she rather likes the sound of that---she fixes Abbie in her gaze.  _Do you promise me_

"I promise pretty girl. Okay?"

_....fine. But the least you can do is come home with a story or two, alright? Have all the fun that I won't and then tell me about it!_

_"_ Is it a deal girl?"

Perdita shoots Abbie a withering glance before swinging around to land a lick on her cheek.  _Deal_

"There's my Perdy. Now......how do I look?"

Sighing Perdita surveys Abbie. The skirt with asymmetrical hemline, curt shorter in the front in fuchsia and the blouse, a light cream satin little thing with straps that fall off her shoulders. There's a bare sliver of midriff present. She approves of the pink wedged shoes. And the hair. 

 _Alright Vixen._ Perdita muses, proud of Abbie in spite of any disappointment. She always admires someone put together, and her owner is no exception. Abbie can really dazzle.  _If I didn't know you better I'd say you were looking for trouble from that bookworm._ She smiles at Abbie and circles her, standing up to look Abbie in the eye.  _And I hope you find it, the **fun kind** that is._ she licks Abbie's nose, making her giggle and pet her head. 

"Time to head downstairs."

* * *

 

"What are you all doing here?" Abbie asks, aghast. Gathered around in the foyer, all waiting for her at the bottom of the steps: Sophie, Danny, Luke, Cynthia and Katrina, all beaming at her as she descends, making a few appreciative sounds. "What are you doing here?" Abbie repeats. 

"Well I want to meet the man you're introducing into Perdita's life." Luke says casually. 

Cynthia smiles softly and nudges him with her elbow. "And he dragged me along."

Katrina shrugs "Solomon is busy tonight and I  _am_ curious who you're so excited over."

"Who said I'm excited?"

"The skirt?"

"The hair?"

"The shoes"

"Your smile."

"The way you've been talking about him nonstop?" Danny grins. 

"I have not----"

"Crane is so smart." Sophie mimics. "He's got the bluest eyes."

Danny bats his lashes. "Oh so blue!"

"His voice is  _soooo_ _ **decadent** " _

_"Sinfully delicious."_

Abbie balks. "I did not say his voice was sinfully delicious!.....that was the cake he ordered."

"After you walked hand in hand to the cafe," 

"And he put his arm around you and---"

" ** _STOP"_** Abbie shouts and watches as her friends fall into laughter. "You're the worst, all of you."

"Hey I am just fulfilling my duty as your brother, to give you a hard time."

"And as your best friend, excessive teasing is in my contract."

Abbie wags a finger in Sophie's direction. "You're causing me a lot of trouble this week you know I'm going to start charging you rent."

"You already charge me rent---"

"More. I'm going to start charging you more rent."

"Abbie!"

Katrina chuckles. "Well if you get this worked up over a little teasing then I know it's true. You're head over heels for him already."

"You see it don't you!" Luke points at Abbie accusingly. "She's gone and fallen madly in love without the approval of her dearest friends."

"I don't need your approval----"

"Spoken like the truly lovesick." Luke tsks. "She doesn't even know what's hit her."

Cynthia sighs. "We're just here to meet him, Abbie, if it's alright."

Abbie's heart feels warm. For all of their relentless ribbing and antics, they really are dear friends and like family to her, and she would love nothing more than for Crane to be welcomed by this group, as she knows they would----but this seems absolutely too soon for him to be meeting all of her friends. She rakes her eyes over all of them, standing in casual grace and elegance and deciding she can't ambush him on the second date with them all there. 

In this massive house. 

As she turns her gaze to look around the interior, on her friends, she begins to feel self conscious. How must they look to people who don't know them? Spoiled brats? Snobs? All of her friends work hard, regardless of their heritage, and they're the smartest and kindest people----albeit perhaps given to some questionable morals, she glances sidelong at Katrina----but what if Crane didn't give them a chance? What if.....what if he just assumed they would all be like his father's friends, snooty, frivolous, beholden to the lures of wealth and social climbing----no, she's not ready just yet to tell him about this----it's only the second date after all, and he certainly can't meet all of them here tonight and ----

"Do you hear a motorcycle?" someone asks. 

_Ding Dong._

Sophie straightens from chattering with the others. "He's here!" 

The rest of them tug shirts and hems and fix errant curls and line themselves off. Perdita poses before them all, tail wagging lazily.  _Well, open the door, Abbie._

Abbie feels paralyzed but she finally goes to the door and opens it and ------

"Wow" Luke says under his breath. 

Danny raises a brow at him. 

"What," Luke replies. "You don't have a monopoly on recognizing attractive men Daniel, and that is one attractive man, right hon?"

Cynthia pecks his cheek lovingly. "I'm inclined to agree." 

"Crane," Abbie breathes. 

Ichabod smiles. 

He'd begun growing a little uneasy as he'd driven into the neighbourhood. Watching cookie cutter homes give way into green lawns and the gatekeeper and sprawling properties. It had begun to feel eerily familiar. He was drinking in the outside of the house before Abbie had opened the door and while there was still a sudden onslaught of nerves, seeing her, helped to ease his spirit. 

"Abbie, you look lovely."

"So do you," she says, and stands there, just looking at him. 

Someone clears their throat and Abbie catches herself before she grabs for his hand and tugs him in the doorway. She notes the way his shoulders tense confronted with the assembly of them, all looking on with warm, although assessing gazes. 

"Hello," he calls. 

A chorus of hellos and good evenings answer him. Perdita breaks ranks to greet him and he kneels down to pet her. "Hello Perdy," he says, relieved for someone he knows. 

 _Don't let them scare you, Crane, they're a bunch of lambs, really, you'll like them._ She licks his fingers and passes one on his cheek and he chuckles. 

"Pongo misses you, you know. He told me to tell you what a ruckus he made when I left him at home."

Perdita seems to smile at the news that Pongo is as equally miserable being kept apart as she is. 

"I already gave Perdita my word that we would all go to the dog park." Abbie says softly with a smile. "I hope you won't make a liar out of me."

"Wouldn't dream of it Treasure I----"

" _Aw!_ "

It's the first time he's ever used the nickname and makes Abbie warm all over as she shyly ducks her head and Crane's ears turn pink.

"Abbie," Danny calls. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Coughing politely Abbie nods. "Of course. Welcome, first of all."

"You have a.....lovely home," Crane trails off, snapped back to his senses and his eyes becoming mesmerized by the chandelier hanging over head. 

"Oh, I....I don't live here!"

"You don't?"

Danny cocks his head."You _don't?_ "

"No!" Abbie laughs, grabbing Crane's arm. "No, this.....this is Danny's house! Danny is my brother! This is my brother Danny's house! He lives here with his wife! Sophie!"

Sophie chokes and then recovers. 

They both shoot Abbie perplexed looks but she sends a pleading one back. Sophie sashays forward to stand next to Danny. "Yes, Sophie Foster.....I kept my maiden name." she smile tightly and barely hides a grimace when Danny throws an arm around her, already in character, hugging her close.

"Headstrong, this one. Danny Mills."

Crane regards them skeptically but then Abbie is making more introductions. "That's Katrina.....she...."

Katrina flusters, "I'm.....I'm their maid!"

"And....and I'm the uh gardener.....and pet sitter!" Luke pipes up. 

Crane glances at Abbie who grins at him. 

"And you are,"

Cynthia huffs, looking over at her silly friends and having little patience for games. "Judge Cynthia Irving." she extends a hand to shake which Crane does, and introduces himself in turn. 

"Professor Ichabod Crane."

"A pleasure to meet you." Cynthia says warmly, bobbing her head. She glances over her shoulder and summons Luke. "You.....garden boy....I have...." she smirks. "I have some hedges that need, trimming. And a few seeds for planting."

Luke's eyes light up with some hidden understanding and bounds out the door after her. Crane crosses his arms the way Luke went. 

"But if he's the gardener here----"

"We share a gardener!" Danny interjects. "Well! You guys have fun on your date!" and him and the 'wife' begin ushering them out towards the door. 

"Bye!" Abbie calls. 

Danny grips her arm. "You're going to tell us what the hell all of this is about later---Bye Abbie!" he chimes. 

"Have fun!" Sophie smiles and then "Danny get  _off_ me." 

"Tonight, I swear." Abbie nods. "And thank you for.....well all of that."

"You're lucky we love you, now go!"

Abbie skips down the steps and toward Crane who waits by his bike. He hands her a helmet and helps her on. 

"So that's your family." 

"Sure is."

"And their......exuberant....well dressed, staff."

".......Sure....is!" 

Crane chuckles knowingly. "Wrap your arms around me. Hold on tight."

Abbie tightens her grip and becomes aware that she can feel all of that lean muscle in his abdomen.  "How's that?"

"Tighter, Abbie."

She obliges. 

"Ready?"

"Take me away."

And then they're off, speeding back down the road, into the night. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do we think Crane bought any of that foolishness?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Ichabbie this chap hope that doesn't disappoint anyone lol

The wind whips in her face and her exuberant thrilling laughter is music to his ears. 

They wind through the city streets, dodging and weaving. She holds tight, her cheek pressed tight to his back as she watches the world blur by. As the houses give way to city lights and traffic and pedestrians, the air shifting to car horns and radios on blast and she breathes in deep, letting the crisp night air fill her lungs. With every turn and stop and change he calls back for her, making sure she's safe, secure. She gives him a reassuring squeeze in turn, as if she needed more excuse to hold tight to him---he has given her plenty of reason. 

She is almost say when the drive is over and he dismounts, helping her off his bike. She wavers a moment, unsteady on her feet but his arms easily encircle her, keeping her upright in a subtle way that barely hints she was losing her balance. She rests her palms on his chest and looks up into his blue dancing shimmering eyes, that glitter at her with joy and exhilaration. His cheeks are rosy and his smile bright. "Was that alright?" he pants. 

Abbie nods, "It was terrifying!" she chimes with an exuberance that makes Crane quirk a brow. She giggles and explains. "I mean, in a good way. I've never ridden a bike before." 

"Oh good. Well, now you can say you have." He reaches to unfasten the helmet from her head. Frowning, he notices her beautiful hair in disarray and moves to fix her hair but catches himself, steadily arresting his hands. "I'm sorry." He says.

Abbie looks at him curiously. "For?"

He gestures to her curls that have been a little squashed askew.  "Your hair---"

"Oh, I've got helmet head don't I," she snickers, reaching up to feel for herself but catches the way he continues to look at her, his fingers nervously twitching. "Yes, Crane?"

"May, may I fix it for you? I'll be gentle I swear, I know how rude it is to touch without asking----and even asking is a bit rude----" he begins to ramble, his brow knitting together in consternation before Abbie calls to him softly.

"Okay." She says, slowly, cautiously.

"Okay?"

Abbie nods and shoots him a small smile. He takes a breath, as if steeling himself for the single most important task of his life before he reaches towards her curling locks. He begins, pausing briefly to gauge the symmetry of her face, on which side is her part, and begins slowly fluffing and fussing with her curls . Abbie stands there, beaming up at him, letting him frown and rearrange, and bend and pat, seemingly lost in his striving to recapture her coifs earlier perfection, twirling a tendril around his finger and tucking it precisely and gently behind her ear. He let's the back of his fingers trail to caress her cheek just briefly before allowing himself the tiniest smile. 

"All better?" she queries. 

"To be frank, Abbie, I'm not all that sure, I did my best, but I was distracted."

"Oh? by what?"

"Some beautiful goddess was staring at me the whole time," he muses. " I could barely concentrate." Abbie shakes her head, laughing. A real charmer this one, but she likes that. There's something about his charm that seems earnest. He offers his arm. "Shall we?" She accepts it and steps up on the sidewalk with him, walking around the building to the gallery for the art exhibit they're attending tonight. 

"Just for the record," Abbie says confidentially. "I don't usually let anyone touch my hair. It's everything you said for someone to just reach out, and even asking, I'm not a pet----but, I appreciate you asking, and it did feel nice, when you did it. Felt like you cared."

"I do care Treasure----"

"Why do you call me that" She sighs, leaning her head on his shoulder as they walk through the doors. 

Crane panics. "Is it too soon, for pet names?"

The mention of 'pet' conjures to mind an absurd image of Perdita and Pongo and she begins to snicker. "No, no Crane, I mean, well, it is only our second date, and for some people, yes, sure, maybe, but.....well not for us." She straightens as they pass by a sculpture, pausing to take in it's unique shapes and colours. "It might be odd to say," she murmurs, only vaguely distracted by an abstract in vivid hues across the hall. Crane senses her interest and begins to steer them through the other patrons until they are before it. "But it doesn't feel too soon for us......we're, we're like this painting."

"Vibrant and odd fitting?"

She stifles a giggle and swats at him. "No.....I mean, we follow our own rules. Make our own space. Our own statements."

Crane glances sidelong at her, mouth twitching fondly until she meets his gaze. "Are you a poet, Treasure?"

"There's plenty of things to discover about me, Crane," she teases in a deliberate purr. 

An arched brow. He calls to mind the mad charade back at the house when he'd picked her up. Oh, they'll be coming around to that before end of the night, no doubt. "I'm inclined to believe you."

Having looked her fill, she meanders to the next exhibit, detaching from his arm but loosely grasping his fingers instead, tugging him to another corner. "You didn't answer my question," 

"Hm?"

"About why you call me Treasure."

Crane blinks at her, as if the answer is plain as day. His eyes shine with earnest truth. "Something precious, rare, valuable and cherished. A stroke of luck to be found. And a desire to be kept." He speaks with conviction, drawing a step closer with every word until she feels as though the walls are closing in, she's light headed! Mills! She chastises herself, Mills you will not swoon you will not----

"Oh," she manages, her voice breathy and light. He steps back a pace, drinking her in. This smarmy devil, she thinks, he knows exactly what effect he has on her----

He twines their fingers together more securely, thumb stroking her hand. " _Oh_. Indeed," his eyes twinkle. "Look over here, this one,"

* * *

 They admired beautiful, stark, contrasting and provocative art work, prodding at one another's mind for their own interpretation of it before they walk outside into the crisp night air, venturing just next door to the bistro. "Your bike," she worries. He pats her lower back, gently urging her through the doors. 

"I prize your company more than my cycle. Don't worry Treasure." 

She orders this time, a little relieved to see some of her favourites. Crane, keen on sharing in her tastes, orders the same, and together they pick an appetizer. "The  salmon wrapped scallops, to start " he calls. "And the two of the Coq Au Vin, wine, Treasure?" Abbie leans her palm on her chin. "You drove,"

"And I'll stay sober, Abbie," he grins. "But if you'd like a glass, go ahead."

She scans the menu a moment before she calls for a glass of the Riesling and they hand over their menus. The table is intimately lit. A glimmering candle that sits centre between them. Outside, the evening turns navy blue black, and the street lamps give off a pale glow. She watches the shadows as they play on his face, the glinting light of the golden strands woven through his trimmed beard. His gaze is constant, though, blue eyes that hold in them intensity and mirth rolled in one. He stretches his hand across the table, palm up, as an invitation. Daintily, she tip toes her fingers across the expanse until fitting her fingers together with his, holding hands and looking at one another wistfully. 

"You know," he murmurs. "I'm on to you."

Abbie quirks a brow, thrown. "Pardon?"

"Back at the house? 'My brother's danny's house?" he teases and Abbie's cheeks flush. 

"I don't know what you're talking about----"

"I know, that you don't need to hide who you are with me, Abbie. I want to get to know you for you. Status and background, have nothing to do with that."

She pouts. "How did you know?"

"The whole ruse was utterly unconvincing?" he grins and Abbie chortles, feeling silly. 

"I'm sorry for the white lie, Crane. I just.....I remembered what you said about your father's friends and....."

"My father's friends, were never merry and jovial, and as obviously loyal as yours are, to go along with all of that on a whim. Besides, you're not an unknown, apparently. My neighbour knows of you."

"Your neighbour?"

"Yes, crotchety old badger---who was conspiring to set me up with his nephew by the way---oh thank you," He withdraws as the waiter brings their starter and Abbie hides her snicker. 

"Set you up?"

"Imagine! Grumpy old busy body wants to play match maker." he chuckles as he pushes the plate towards her. She helps herself and takes her first bite, moaning in satisfaction. "Good?"

"Scrumptious."

"Oooh." Crane drawls. "Sounds like a winning endorsement."

Her eyes dance with light as she takes another sip of her wine and dabs at her mouth. "So what's his name?"

"Oh! This  _is_ good, perhaps I should order more to take away.....can dogs eat scallops?---hmm? oh! Henry Parish."

Something clicks in Abbie's brain, a distant, pale strain of familiarity that tells her she knows this name, but for the life of her, she can't recall why. 

"Says he knew your grandmother,"

Abbie pauses before her next bite. "Knew? She's still living."

"I got the impression they've lost touch."

Intrigued, Abbie sets down her fork. "What did he say exactly?"

"His exact words? Well to do, pillars of society type people. That your father is a mogul and your mother the mayor."

"Heh, heh,"

"And that you are a well rounded accomplished artist with a heart of gold for the community and for outreach. Humane work and humanitarian, which that's all beautiful and lovely and I've no idea why you tried to hide it. Because you live in Frederick's Manors? Abbie I measure by your character, I hope that's how you measure me." 

"It is, Crane," she assures warmly, relief coursing through her. "What else did Henry say?"

"Only he seemed fairly sure that you're out of my league and scolded me properly that I'd better keep you safe and treat you well, no ' _hoochie coo_ '---"

Abbie stifles a giggle. " _what?!"_

Crane beams. "My reaction exactly!"

Abbie falls into a fit of laughter, bright, ringing and clear, wiping a tear from her eye. 

"At any rate, he told me to take care of you," his lips turn down momentarily. "And then an odd bit about the Mills not liking to see their family trifled with," he mumbles, reaching for his glass of water.  His eyes light with mischief. "Are you mafia perhaps Abbie? Is there a Godfather I should know about?" 

* * *

"Ah Ha! success Pongo, here it is!" Henry straightens from the box he was hunched over in, waving a book triumphantly over his head. Worn, leather bound, filled with a beloved looping scrawl filling page after page, each dated precisely. She'd left this behind the last time he saw her. He caresses the first page. Weathered and brown with age. 

_Property of: Grace Dixon_

* * *

 

By the time they leave the sky is over cast and laden with clouds. Dark and heavy with the promise of rain. They mount his bike and begin to make the drive back when the heavens open up, unleashing a a surprise torrent. The downpour is so vicious it obscures Crane's view, he swerves sharply, looking for refuge, and swerves into the bottom half of a parking garage. The damage is done however, both of them soaked through. Shivering with lamp light barely illuminating their hiding spot. 

"Abbie I'm so sorry,"

"The rain isn't your fault Crane," she chatters, rubbing her arms. Distantly lamenting her hair. She's got the helmet on but still, she can see the exposed ends beginning to shrink and frizz. She unlatches the strap and pulls the hair tie she keeps around her wrist, gathering her hair into a low bun at the base of her neck. Crane all the while watching her, as if he's experiences a revelation. "What are you staring at," she smirks. 

"You in lamplight."

She rolls her eyes. "You're a real sweet talker, aren't you."

"I'm fond of you Abbie, honestly. Unless you prefer if spoke more roughly to you? I don't think Henry would approve," 

Her heart rate spikes, noting how his shirt clings to him beneath the jacket. The little droplets in his beard. "To heck with Henry," 

Drawing closer, Crane reaches out gingerly to cup her cheek, and she turns her head upwards, eyes fluttering closed, waiting. 

"I want to kiss you until you forget your name," he growls. 

"Come on then,"

* * *

Lips caress and fit, gently, chaste, sweetly at first, until his arms come around her, her hands reaching and running through his hair, pulling him down towards her and before she can register what's happening he lifts and jams her against the concrete pillar and her legs circle and latch around his waist. Kissing him hungrily, wanting to taste and feel and be close to him. Her mind is singing. HIs heart takes wing. 

Neither of them have never known anything so singularly electric, wonderful, and in the same breath deeply satisfying and yet not enough. Her lips part for him and it's a deeper wanting, connecting kiss, it alludes to a desire that is passionate and more involved than what they court here, a stolen moment in the rain. She bares her throat and feels his kisses trail down her neck and then back up to her mouth, savouring the caress of her plush soft lips. She decides she likes the scratch of his beard. She likes the whole of him, pressed against her like this. Close, cherished. Dear. 

She loses track of time here in his arms. The storm raging just there, on the street. 

And when they break apart, they breathe each others air, eyes locked on one another. 

Lightening flashes.

A spark, a shock of recognition; this, can be theirs. 

 


	10. Chapter 10

As soon as the rain lets up, they hope back on the bike and Crane drops her off back home, pausing to peck her cheek as he unlatches the helmet, followed by a soft press of his lips against hers, one hand drifting to press lightly on her back, crushing her closer to him. When he releases her she blinks a few times, dazed and finds him gazing back at her just as stunned. 

"When," she whispers. 

"Tomorrow?"

"Sure,"

"I have a later lecture, perhaps breakfast?"

Abbie hums softly, lifting on her toes to steal another kiss. "Sounds perfect."

"You'll bring Perdita?"

She nods before she steals yet another one, watching his face flush and a grin spread across his face, his hands reach for hers. "And you'll bring Pongo?"

He darts in this time, landing several quick kisses all over her face until she begins to laugh and pull away. "I'll bring Pongo," he assures. 

"How about I pick you up, I've got a large enough car, dog park, then food."

"I'm all aboard."

"Okay, well." She steps back shyly, up the step, turning towards her door, and then casting one more glance at him as he begins ambling back toward the bike. He lifts his head just as he's about to mount and she's skipping back down the steps towards him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. "Last one I promise." she teases softly as her arms come around her and their lips greet one another again. When they pull away Crane chuckles warmly. 

"Please never make such a frightening promise again, Treasure. Promise me more kisses, not less." 

"G'night Crane."

"G'night Abbie," 

She waits as he starts up the bike, the rev and roar that starts the dogs in the area barking. alerted by his racket as he barrels back down the street, waving before he's out of sight. Smiling to herself, Abbie walks back up to her front door, leaning on it wistfully before it opens and she falls inside into Sophie's startled arms.

"Oof!" 

"Sophie!"

"I was wondering what had taken you so long, that was him leaving just now wasn't it?"

"Yes---"

"Was it good?"

"Yes----"

"Your hair's a mess," she frowns. 

"The helmet, he tried to fix it but---"

"Wait. You let him play in your hair?"

"I----"

"Danny  _darling_ I need wine! and popcorn! stat!"

"What?" Abbie asks, baffled as she kicks off her shoes. Just then she hears the scrabble of nails on tile and not one, but three dogs come bounding around the corner towards her, barking and yipping excitedly. "Hello! hello Perdita girl! did you have fun with these two? hmm?" distracted she bends to scratch behind multiple fuzzy excitable ears swirling and prancing around her. 

 _I did,_ Perdita admits with a grudge  _you won't believe the latest, Emilia was just telling me about Abe next door and -----_

"Abbie?"

"Karissa?" 

"I stayed over with the dogs for their visit, hope you don't mind," 

"Of course not."

"Wine and popcorn in the living room!" Danny bellows from the bowels of the house. 

Karissa furrows her brow. "Wine?"

"Stay!" Sophie impores. "The husband and I insist!" she shoots a glare at Abbie and Karissa turns between the pair of them, confused. 

"Husband?"

"It's a long story!" Abbie laughs, grabbing her two friends by the hand and walking them to the living room. Chauncey and Emilia wagging their tails excitedly behind them. They each hop up on Danny's knee, begging for popcorn. 

"Had fun sis?"

"Yes, I did---can I change? Do you guys mind? I'll go change and be right back."

"Yes you will because we have all the fixings to settle in while you tell us about the man playing in your hair!" Sophie crows. 

Karissa's hand flies to her chest in a gasp. "He touched her hair?" Another hand flies into her own mane. "Abe didn't ask until we'd been dating a month!"

"Exactly! this is serious!"

Abbie shakes her head in disbelief. "You're all being ridiculous."

" _You love us_ ," they all chorus. 

Perdita cocks her head to the side.  _you know it's true._ she muses, sauntering after Abbie, following her human upstairs while Abbie switches into her pjs. 

 _Soooooo_ Perdita thumps her tail.  _Is your hair really just messy from wearing a helmet or was there some sort of, **romping** going on _

"He kissed me Perdy," Abbie sighs. "And it was.....it was amazing. It felt like nothing I'd ever experienced before." 

Perdita thumps her tail twice more.   _I knew it!_

"He's....just....I can't describe it."

Lying down with arms crossed before her, Perdita grins.  _You're in puppy love_ she beams.  _You're so cute._

"Anyway," she continues, putting her earrings away. "We're going out again tomorrow. And you're coming too. He's bringing Pongo. Dog park and breakfast!" Abbie turns away from her dresser just as Perdita leaps on her and laps her face joyously. She giggles. "Perdy! Perdita stop it!" she laughs until overwhelmed, she falls to the floor with the dog nuzzling her face. "yes we're going to see Pongo! Calm down! oh you silly girl!"

_If you get to be silly about Crane I get to be silly about Pongo._

Finally relaxing Abbie rubs Perdita's side and then holds her precious dogs face between her hands, leaning in until they're nose to nose. "I love you girl."

_love you too Abbie. I love seeing you so happy!_

"Pretty Perdy, okay let's go downstairs with the others." 

_When they're gone I'll tell you what I heard About Abe and Karissa from Emilia! oh And....I think Chauncey peed on your vase, the one by the front door? I told him not too, but you might want to have a look._

Together, the pair descend the stairs and join the rest of their friends in the living room, hearing voices. 

"So you and Danny pretended to be married?" Karissa asks, doubled over in a laughing fit. 

"I don't know," Danny says. "It wasn't so bad. I might consider marrying Foster for real." he grins wickedly and Sophie shrieks as he reaches over to tickle her. 

"Nope never! Nein! Net!  _Non!_ " 

Abbie takes a seat and grabs for a glass. "So where should I start?"

Danny raises a brow. " _Obviously_ , from the beginning" 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick little ditty!
> 
> Pongo is trying to get ready for seeing Perdita again.

Crane hums merrily to himself as he shaves.

Pongo is downstairs, eating kibble, drinking water, baring his teeth in the full length mirror by the front door, examining his smile.  _Must look nice for Perdita. Must look perfect for my Perdy_ he muses, doing a couple spins to inspect himself before he becomes minutely distracted by his tail and gives chase, spinning in a rapid circle before he stumbles and braces himself while the room spins.  _Come now Pongo_ he chastises himself.  _Get it together man pup. Now.  Not a spot out of place, not a matted tuft of fur, teeth are clean---_ he huffs in the air and sticks his nose forward, wiggling it for a sniff and then grimaces.  _eeyiccch. Phew. Need to cut back on the salmon kibble champ._ His ears droop as he looks back at his reflection in the mirror, hearing Crane run the water upstairs. Humming has given way to quietly murmured song. He can't be bothered to try to decipher which love struck ballad he's launched into now. Crane has been singing since he picked Pongo up from Henry's last night after handing over the book that Crane had only momentarily paused over. 

He'd been too busy singing again to give it a proper once over. His voice swells louder now, loud enough that Pongo could discern words if he wished, but he's preoccupied with a singular mission. 

Breaking into his doggy cupboard. Crane keeps all things Pongo in here. Leashes, shampoos, conditioner, brushes, toys, snacks, his coat for bad weather and the booties and Pongo can't stand. But what Pongo needs most of all right now, is the scented solution Crane pours in his water to keep his breath fresh. There was probably  a splash already in the dish this morning, but Pongo feels certain he could do with another good gulp just to be sure. 

He ponders the door a moment,  _ah, ajar,_ he thinks triumphantly. No doubt in Cranes haste to be back upstairs getting ready that he neglected to shut the door proper.  _Makes my task easier, Ichabod, thank you._ A few seconds fumbling with nose and paw and he nudges the door wide open. It makes a surprisingly clanging racket, his leash rattling against the door.   _Ssssh!_ he scolds it. Leaping up on his hind legs to the steady the swinging cords but they tangle around on of his paws instead.  _Let go! Let go you stupid thing! Let go!_

Yank. 

Yank.

Creak. 

 _Oh that doesn't sound good._  

A tilt of head shows the rack thats nailed into the door has given a shift of protest to his movements. Pongo tries to still a moment, back legs quivering, one front caught, and straightens as much as he can to nose through the shelf in search of the bottle. 

 _No, no, ooh, my body spray! I want to smell nice for Perdita, she always smells so lovely, perhaps._ Grabbing that in his mouth he faces the puzzle of getting the pump to work. A midst juggling it around in his mouth to aim it at his torso it sprays down his throat.  

 _GAK! EEEEYICCCH PATOOIE PTTT PTT PTT_ Disgusted, he staggers backwards. 

The dropped bottle rolls under his foot.

_What---no!--no no!---_

Down he goes, in his flailing his paw slips loose of the leashes swinging, but in effort to break his fall he snatches out with his jaw for something to hold. 

_Yank_

_CREAK_

**_CRASH_ **

* * *

 

_"You'd, be, so easy to love, so easy to---"_

**_CRASH_**  

"Pongo? Pongo?"

Scampering steps and Crane finds his beloved companion in a heap on the floor. "Pongo boy are you alright? What happened?"

Pongo's baleful gaze is all the answer he receives.

"What have you been doing down here boy? Hmm?"

Crane takes in the broken rack for the leash and the bottle of body spray, and a few other things that fell from the shelf. "Up boy, come on up Pongo, are you hurt?"

_Only my pride._

Pongo slinks off, tail dragging.   _I don't know how you do it._

Crane walks around him, mouth turned down in a frown testing his paws, watching his gait. "Well....you look fine, but maybe I ought to tell Abbie we should rain check. If you've hurt something----"

_NO_

" ** _PONGOOOOOO!!!!!"_**

Pongo has pounced on him, licking his face profusely.  _  
_

_**Please don't postpone I beg you! I'm fine! Really I AM!** _

_Ding_

_dong_

"That must be Abbie and Perdita. Can I get up now?" he asks. 

Offering a goofy smile Pongo backs up, flings the discarded things in the cover while Crane untangles his leash, latching it around his collar. "Ready?"

He goes to the door and opens it. 

There's Abbie. 

And There's Perdita. 

"Good Morning Treasure."

_Morning Perdita,_

"Good Morning Crane, Abbie beams brightly at him, stepping in to touch Crane's shoulder and peck his cheek and lips. Perdita uses their distraction to amble forward and nuzzle Pongo's chin.

_Morning Pongo. Hmmm You smell **good**....is that.....apricots? _

 


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you sure?" Crane asks dubiously, surveying Abbie's beautiful cobalt blue terrain vehicle. The gleaming silver rims, everything about it sleek and catching the early morning sunlight. It looks to clean and tidy to tramp Pongo in, to be sure. Abbie looks at him curiously. 

"Hmm?"

"Your, car," he gestures vaguely. "He sometimes sheds---"

Abbie chortles and pecks his cheek again. "You're a bit of a fuss pot aren't you. I have a seat cover Crane, I came here with Perdita" She smiles, reaching to twine their fingers. 

"Oh! oh of course, I'm sorry I....I guess I forgot." His ears burn red. 

"Let's be clear, Crane, there is nothing in my life that is too fancy to be ruined. I have, and like nice things, for myself, and the people, and pets," she wheedles at Perdita who only glances at her owner before turning her attention back on Pongo. She marches around him, tail wagging happily as she gives him a proper sniff. 

_So sweet! Abbie always sprays me with blossoms. But Apricot, I must say Pongo, I **like** a canine who's adventurous in his scents._

_I am **plenty** adventurous Perdy, believe me._

"I love sharing these things with people I care about. If it gets dirty or falls apart, well loved and well used. Alright? Now let's get in the car." Abbie finishes, giving his hand a squeeze. Crane reaches tentatively to tuck a curl behind her ear, stopping just shy before she gives a nod and he does, letting thumb linger just a second on her ear lobe. "Are you always going to ask?" She asks, pulling away Crane calls for the dogs, gathering leashes in hand and turns around to lock his front door. 

"Always," he assures her. "Because I love hearing you say yes I may, that it's invited and wanted, even for something as simple as touching your hair."

"Oh, Crane," she chuckles, her face heating as she bounds down the steps to unlock the car just as Crane's next door neighbours door rattles. 

A grumbling old man emerges, curling brown and grey hair, round spectacles, a sweater vest tugged on over a shirt and slacks. There's a downturned frown set in the corners of his mouth that gives Abbie pause. As if she's seen it somewhere before. She blinks a few times and goes back to opening the back door, patting the seats encouragingly for the dogs. 

"Morning Henry!" Crane calls to his neighbour, protesting and groaning as he reaches for his morning paper. 

"Morning Cr---what's all this?" His eyes roam warily to where he sees not one but two spotted behinds disappearing into the car. A sense of dread begins to creep over him, a nervous warmth, the onset of anxious sweat. 

"We're  getting breakfast with," he lowers his voice to a whisper. "Abbie and Perdita. Oh! I mentioned you to her last night"

Henry shoots him a glance, aghast. "You  _what_?" his adam's apple bobs, knees feeling like jelly. He wrinkles the morning paper in nervous wringing hands, half stumbling in a hurry to go back inside. 

"Henry?"

"Hmmm?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no, I just, came for the paper----" his hand shakes and trembles in the simple act of trying to turn his own door knob. 

"Well would you like to meet her--"

" ** _GOD NO!"_**

Crane reels back, stunned. He reaches for the older gentleman cautiously, concern in his voice. "Are you sure you're---" 

"I'm fine!" Henry fires back, finally getting the door ajar, wedges himself inside and  slams it noisily behind him. 

Abbie cranes her head around the car at the racket.  "Everything okay?" 

"Yes...." Crane says slowly, perplexed at the mans odd behaviour. "Yes, I....I suppose it is."

"Was that the neighbour you told me about?"

He swallows. "It was," Crane closes his eyes and sighs, shaking himself out. "Never mind him, as temperamental as a tide at sea."

Abbie smirks at him, "Oh? and how would you know know? Do  you sail, Crane?" she teases. 

Ichabod scoffs. "No, never. I have a cousin that does though. Rambunctious....." he grimaces recalling the type of work his cousin likes to get himself into and what sort of work Abbie's brother is into. "A scallywag. That's all"

"Ah ah, that sounds like a secret you're keeping Crane."

"My cousin _may_ deal in some not so legal activities."

Abbie puts the car in drive and starts off, rolling down the windows for Perdita and Pongo to peer through, catching wind in their faces and enjoying the fresh air. 

"Oh you've got troublemakers in your family, is that it?" of all things she sounds amused, enchanted by the notion, actually. 

"For lack of a better word."

Abbie winks. "I'm not about to set Danny on him, if that's what you're worried about."

He reaches to stroke her neck lightly. She smiles at him. When the approaching light turns red he darts in for a quick kiss and she emits a surprised squeak. Her mind clouds until she hears the blare of a car horn behind them and they both jolt apart, laughing. 

"You can't do that while I'm driving," she chastises. 

"Fair." He reasons. "But once out of this car," he arches a brow at her mischievously.  She answers him with a delighted laugh. 

* * *

They stopped for breakfast on the way, Crane picking off pieces of hash brown, "Is it alright?" her queries, reaching over the back of the chair. Pongo and Perdita sit upright, eyes wide and tongues lolling excitedly for a bite. Abbie catches a glimpse of them in the mirror, chuckling warmly at the expression on the beloved pooches faces before she nods. 

"Small bite."

Twin exclamations of  _Yay!_

* * *

 

It's still early, the park is empty. Perdita and Pongo bound from the car joyously, marching back and forth at the gate, waiting to be let in. Hands locked together Abbie and Crane walk over, letting the dogs in and take a seat on the bench to finish their coffee and sandwiches, pausing for but a second to unclip their leashes and watch as Perdita takes off at a trot and Pongo dashes after her.

They're stunning, really, the pair of them in their spotted coats, dodging and weaving around one another, barking and yipping as they tousle and play. A playful tug of ears and snap at a tail, Perdita dodging just out of reach.

 _Well come on Pongo have you given up already?_ she taunts

_Perdita dear I have not even begun_

_Oh,_ she drawls coyly, sauntering over for a nuzzle and a passing lick on his face which makes his ears stand at attention.  _You're **all**_ _ **talk.**_ She nips his ear and trots away to investigate a sizeable bush. She peeks around it and bats her lashes at him as if in challenge. 

 _Perdita,_ he growls.

 _I know what I'm doing, Pongo. Question is, **do you?**   **\----** **oh!**_ In that split second, Pongo pounced on her, rolling them over in the grass. She chuckles at him, caught by surprise and then sighs happily watching his clear blue eyes gaze down into hers. 

 _Perdy_ Pongo nuzzles her face, breathes in deep and butts his head against hers.   _Perdita?_

_Yes, Pongo, **yes**_

The sound of panting, huffing breaths is muffled by the breeze that blows through, rustling the bushes and trees, lending the pair cover.

* * *

At the bench, Abbie sits with her legs swung up in Crane's lap. An arm draped around her shoulder, hugging her close. With his free hand, he balances his coffee and Abbie finishes munching on her chocolate covered croissant, teasing him with bites. 

"I really enjoy your company Abbie," Crane says, breathing in deep. "I know it's so soon but.....I'd love to keep seeing you, more and more."

"No objections here, Crane." she sighs. 

He lifts her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. 

* * *

_Perdita,_ _Perdita my love?_

She nuzzles against him, feeling warm and dreamy.  _Yes I am. Pongo my darling._

* * *

 

"Wait, where's Pongo?"

"Perdita?"

* * *

Pongo lifts his head.  _Uh oh._

Perdita lifts a paw over her mouth to cover her snickers. 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is not going to be drama I swear! just a little side plot, quickly resolved, no weeping, no enduring pain, just, hang on, okay? 
> 
> this disclaimer though, lol.

Abbie drops Crane in home to prepare for his afternoon lecture. Pongo is loathe to leave the backseat where he had laid companionably beside Perdita on the whole drive home, her head resting gently atop his. 

"Would you look at these two," Abbie smiles patting Perdita's rump. "Come on Perdy, up, say bye to Pongo." the dog makes a sound of protest but eventually shifts so Pongo can rise, casting a forlorn look into the back of the car. 

"He looks how I feel," Crane muses, his eyes shining. "He can't bare to part from her, and neither can I from you," 

Chuckling softly Abbie walks him up his steps, pausing to eye next door. She remembers now the noise the older gentleman had made.  "Something troubling you Treasure?" Crane asks, bursting into her thoughts. 

"No I.....just," she points towards the door and then drops her hand. "I......just wondered....if he knew Grandma at some point.... well, she doesn't talk much about her life before she married grandpa, I guess I'm just curious what he knows."

Crane frowns his understanding. "Yes, well, he's an odd duck, to put it mildly, if you have a moment you can come in---" Crane gestures, welcoming her across the threshold. Abbie calls for Perdita who has the good sense to lean against the door once she's out the car for it to click shut and prances up the steps, through the door, and taking up post immediately beside Pongo. Crane smiles at them as he goes over to the cupboard, letting out a few surprised sounds when items come tumbling out. He'd forgotten this mornings fiasco. Ducking his head shyly he fishes out some treats for the dogs and scatters them on the floor. Abbie watches the pair eating happily before she casts a glance around, absorbing the space. Cozy, scholarly, and a at once both put together and a little ramshackle. 

She glances sidelong at Crane, handsome, well dressed, but at times a little clumsy and bumbling, and realizes it absolutely suits him. She snickers softly to herself and follows Crane as he ducks toward his living area, and a book that's been discarded on the coffee table. He takes it up in his hands, touching the cover tentatively, brow furrowed,  considering. 

"He gave this to me last night when I came in. It was late and I hadn't time to ask what it was.....I was also on a bit of a high from our pleasant evening, but I do recall, he asked me to give it to you."

Puzzlement creases her brow as she reaches for the weathered leather bound book, taking it into her hands. "To _me,_ " she mumbles, caught off guard. "But....why....."

Crane throws his hands up. "I wouldn't know. Especially with the way he carried on this morning, I.....I asked if he wanted to meet you since he knew your family and he exclaimed 'God no' and I just didn't know what to say."

Abbie eases herself down in a chair and opens the cover, pausing at the first page. Her heart picks up a frantic rhythm. "It's....it's hers. Her journal.....why did he have this?"

Stunned, Crane takes a seat beside her, leaning over cautiously for a better look. "He only told me that they were friends, but to have her personal accounts after all this time......"

Abbie flips through, the pages upon pages filled to the brim, the dates. Grace Dixon had been scribbling diligently in this diary for little more than a decade. Her grandmother doesn't write anymore, furious tremors have taken up residence in her hands, it makes it hard for her to scrawl steadily.  All of her grandmothers innermost thoughts, events and recounts flit across the pages, friends she's never heard of, places Grace had gone but never told Abbie about, she flips madly, hungry, searching, wishing she could devour it all at once, backwards and forwards, she's astonished by just how much writing there is. Somewhere in the midst of the fluttering pages Abbie grinds to a halt when she sees a name. 

"Ichabod," she calls softly, breath short. He moves closer on the seat beside her, leg pressing against hers. 

"Yes Treasure?"

"What did you say your neighbours name was?"

"Henry, why----" Just then he glances down at the page to where Abbie is pointing. 

* * *

_Don't tell  mama or papa, Journal,_

_but I've gone and done it._

_I've gone and done something well and truly stupid,_

_but I can't stop._

_I feel like my heart could burst I'm so happy._

_I'm in love with Henry Parish._

_And he loves me back, twice as strong._

* * *

 

 

"Danny!" Abbie hollers when she gets back to the house. "Danny!"

"Abbie? what's up?"

"Is Sophie home?"

"No left for a class, hey girl," he reaches down to pet Perdita who's ears droop as she whines, leaning against Abbie's leg. Danny frowns noticing that his sister seems distressed. "Sis? what's going on you seem riled."

"I---" Abbie starts before she notices Danny is in his suit, a suitcase resting by the front door, he must be just about to head into the office. She notes the expression on his face, and any calm she was trying to wrangle in escapes her again, racing at a full gallop, she can't be sure, and yet, she senses it, something.....She holds up the journal. Danny regards her warily. 

"What is---"

"Open it."

"Property of Grace Dixon.......grandma?" Danny blinks as he leafs through it, astonished. His prior haste seemingly forgotten. "Where did you find this?"

"Crane's neighbour had it---"

More frowning. "His  _neighbour_?"

"Danny," she tugs it out of his grasp and flips to the page she found, it's only one of many with the same mans name littering the pages now. It stands out as if it's been highlighted. 

"So...." Danny swallows, "So Grandma and......Mr. Parish, had a fling? okay....it's a little creepy he kept this all this time.....why did he have it?"

Abbie flips further to another date. 

It's filled with ruminations and mutterings; Grace recalling the plans her and Henry have made for their future, what jobs they'll have, where they'll live, what they would name their children. 

* * *

 

_Journal,_

_Henry and I spent half the afternoon thinking about our future,_

_daydreaming baby names,_

_it's so silly, because he hasn't even asked me to marry him proper_

_yet I know he will,_

_He talks about it constantly_

_the house he'll give me, the ring,_

_and how he'll protect me and our children, when we have them, with everything he has,_

_no matter the costs, at all costs_

_We agree three children is a nice number_

_Zachary, Gregory, for boys._

_Lorelei, for a girl._

_We'd call her **Lori** for short._

* * *

 

Danny gapes at the page, at the date Abbie's manicured finger points to. 

"Look at the dates, mama was born in February"

"I don't know what you're trying to say, Abbie." though Danny's mouth has gone dry.

"Use your head. Danny," she pleas. "Tell me I'm not crazy. Is this saying what I think it says?"

"....That Henry Parish.....is....our grandfather? But what about grandpa......"  

The two siblings blink at one another. 

* * *

"HENRY YOU OPEN THIS DOOR."

The door eases open a crack, and his eye peeps through, scanning over him. "Has she gone?"

"You might have told me what you meant by giving me the book before hand." Crane grouses, pushing past him to get in the house, Pongo slinks behind, growling lightly at Henry as he passes. 

_You agitated Abbie, Henry,  and now you've worried Perdita. She was so concerned when she left here._

"How long did you plan to skulk around over here and not say anything?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Ichabod, I was just returning something that should be hers, given I knew----"

"Loved. You loved, Grace Dixon. Plans for a family and all. So how come you're here, and she's not?" 

Henry flusters, a hand raised to protest before his shoulders sag. 

"How, how can you know that."

"Because she wrote about you, you fool! Abbie showed me before she left in a hurry."

" _Me?_ "

"No the other doddering idiot in a sweater vest about a decade out of fashion. Yes you. Didn't you ever read it?"

Henry wrings his hands anxiously. "No." he says simply, quietly. "The afternoon she fled my place, I...." he huffs. "I couldn't bring myself to invade her privacy. I flipped through pages, just to see her writing, check the cover to read her name, but I never lingered enough to read anything. Our parting, the memory, it was painful. I had no idea.....I hadn't meant.....was she upset? Abbie?"

"Your Granddaughter?"

Henry flinches. 

"Abbie seemed quite positive, Grace details what you would have named a daughter. Coincidence that Abbie says her mother bares the name?" 

"If we're going to go down a lane such as this.....well you're not the one that should be grilling me. No offence, Crane. But if I'm owing answers to anyone.....it'd be Abbie."

"And her brother."

Henry pales. 

"Did you not know you also may have a grandson?" 

"Is it warm in here? do you hear music? the room seems like it's moving." 

Pongo side eyes him and side steps out of the way. 

_Just don't step on my tail if you're going to faint._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again......will be resolved and explained for and i'm hoping it can bring around other happy moments. 
> 
> And I LIKE tying characters together okay, so there .........


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call!
> 
>  
> 
> Abbie has snooped too far in the diary.

"Oh God, no, why,"

"Treasure?" Crane calls worriedly. "Treasure, are you crying, what's the matter?"

"It's awful," Abbie continues, scrubbing at her eyes. They're burning. 

Perdita stands at the side of her bed concerned. 

"What is it Abbie, Abbie, please talk to me----"

"I was reading the diary.....and.....Crane she documented their first time. It took me a second to understand where it was going but it was awful, I'm traumatized, I never want to think of my grandmother being a sexual being---"

Crane chuckles warmly on the other end of the phone. "Pray tell, Abbie, how do you suppose your mother got here? Indeed, how did  _you_ get here?"

"Knowing and reading are too entirely different things, and for that I think you should also know the horror of having your neighbours physique described in frightening detail----"

Crane bolts upright. "Now now, Treasure, Abbie darling, let's...let's not be hasty---"

_"His lean form, all muscles and sinew held me so carefully, so gently as he laid me down and took himself in hand to-----"_

"TREASURE STOP"

"Now you know why I'm crying!"

"How could you not tell where it was headed?"

"I was reading it half asleep. I dozed off and awoke to " _Henry's grunts were the sweetest sounds I'd ever heard---"_

"ABBIE!"

"I blinked in confusion, scanned back a few lines and realized where I was and.....my eyes are on fire Crane _help me."_

"First of all, put the diary, down."

Abbie does as she's told, more or less hurling the book across the room where it lands just shy of her vanity. 

"Second of all, are you decent?"

"Yes....why.....oh." She accepts the video call and takes a moment to adjust to the strange intimacy of seeing his face within the confines of her room. It feels abruptly, intensely intimate. Her skin heats just seeing his face. Self consciously she reaches up to pat her head, failing to remember if she's wearing a scarf or bonnet or----

"Evening Treasure," he greets. 

 Abbie sighs happily, forgetting her earlier trauma, and the state of her hair,  and lays down on the bed, legs crossed in the air behind her. Perdita nudges her to appear in the frame beside her and Crane's eyes light up. 

"Hello Perdita! How's the pretty girl?"

Perdita preens at the attention and licks the screen. 

"Perdy," Abbie scolds playfully, in tandem with Crane's amused laugh. 

"Pongo boy look who it is," 

_Perdy!_

_Pongo!_

_Are you alright? How's Abbie? you both seemed so out of sorts----_

_It's been a strange afternoon sweetheart----_

_They'll be wanting the phone back, but when I see you again, tell me all about it, if it helps, I bit Henry's pant leg for upsetting you----_

_Oh Pongo----_

"Do you mind?" Abbie coos, pulling the phone back and raising a brow at her dog. Perdita grins sheepishly at her until Abbie ruffles her ears. 

"They seemed to be having quite the conversation," Crane huffs, looking askance at Pongo who has also sunk out of view. 

"I wonder what they would say to each other if they could talk," 

"Pongo's a bit of a philosopher," 

"Is he now," Abbie asks, eyes twinkling. 

"Oh yes, big fan of socrates. Plato. Don't get him started he can moan and howl about them forever."

Abbie begins to snicker and Crane's smile tugs wider to see her laugh and in considerably better spirits than when she left his place this afternoon. When the giggles subside his face sobers. 

"Now, Treasure, how are you really feeling."

"Buggered."

Crane nods his understanding. 

"And guilty. I probably shouldn't be tearing through her journal without asking first......it's confusing Crane. Why......if they were so in love, and if I'm right, why didn't she marry him, instead of grandpa. But then I also feel awful asking a question like that because, Danny and I loved our grandfather, loved him to bits, he's been gone little over a decade now, and mama was in pieces over it, and I just, I can't understand.....well anything, Crane, I don't understand anything. Her entries just, stop."

Crane rearranges himself in his chair. Resting an arm on his desk. He finished all his lesson planning and grading early and in haste so he could devote time to this call with Abbie. Pongo lies anxiously at his feet, biding time to hopefully glimpse Perdita again through the screen. 

"How did Danny take it?"

"To be honest I think I mucked up his mind before he headed into work. I was just so amped about the whole thing it felt like I had to tell someone."

"Of course, Abbie. I can't imagine what this must feel like to you."

"I don't even know where to turn, first. My parents? Does my mother know? What if she doesn't, this would, this would devastate her. My grandmother? Well if she never told me, maybe I was never meant to know but....I need to know Crane, I need to....." Her eyes threaten to fill with tears again, real ones. 

"Please don't cry, darling, please, I wish, I wish I could wipe those tears away I wish I could be there with you."

Abbie sniffles. "Could you?"

Crane blinks a few times in the dim light of his study, gauging her words and meaning. Her eyes are beseeching and he feels his heart give a lurch. Of course. Without hesitation. 

* * *

Abbie paces nervously before the front door, listening for his bike, but is surprised to hear the rumble mutter of an older vehicle puttering into her driveway. She throws open the door, curious, and Perdita bolts past her, barking at the strange car, that turn to excited yelps and yips as Pongo bounds out of it to meet her, the two of them circling each other in a dizzying fond display. 

Abbie's about to ask if this is his car but then Crane hurries towards her and she goes into his arms, holding onto him tight. He buries his nose in her hair. 

"I'm so sorry you came all this way. I'm being stupid----"

He pulls back to meet her eyes. "Never." he assures her. "Abbie, all you need do is call."

"But it's so late and----"

"I will make it to you, Treasure."  

A garbled word tries to escape her lips but she shakes her head instead and kisses him, and then sinks back down into his embrace. 

He holds her there in her driveway, cooing and petting her hair.  

She burrows into him, anchored, warm and safe. 

Whatever confusion and tumult that had clouded her brain, is but a distant fog, here, now. 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

"It's a bit chilly," 

"Mm? oh! Treasure are you cold? here---" Crane disentangles himself and begins shirking off his jacket to throw around her shoulders before Abbie gives a light chuckle. 

"No, Crane, I meant, come inside?"

"......Oh." He flushes, and then cants his head, smirking "Are you certain your brother won't mind? Man of the house and all,"  

Abbie rolls her eyes, smiling as  she twines her fingers with his and leads him up the steps. Perdita and Pongo prance along eagerly behind them. "Who's car is that?" She asks as she locks the door behind them. 

"Borrowed it from.....my neighbours, they were very kind to oblige."

"I hope I haven't put you in their debt----"

"Even so, Abbie, Treasure," he murmurs, clasping both of her hands in his, close to his heart, "It is a price I would be more than willing to pay." Abbie stares up at him, leaning in, lost in his eyes before she catches herself and glances around. The house is quiet. Sophie's been buried under research at school and turned in early and Danny often works late. 

"Come to bed with me," She breathes, before her eyes widen in surprise. 

Perdita's ears twitch.  _Brazen this evening aren't you._

"I mean!" Abbie huffs, embarrassed. "Since you came all this way, you'll stay the night with me, right?" 

"I didn't pack, any sleep clothes," 

Abbie begins tugging him slowly, carefully toward the stair case, catching sight of Perdita and Pongo dashing up the other one and lingering at the top waiting for them, Crane follows Abbie as if in a trance, practically floating up the stairs. 

"You can borrow some of Danny's things, he won't mind," She says, checking over her shoulder to ensure she doesn't miss a step. "My rooms just on the right here----"

"Wait," he blinks, once they've reached the top. "Where'd those two run off too?"

"Oh," Abbie nods down the hall where Crane can see their spotted behind switching and disappearing around a corner. "She's probably going to show him her favourite squeaky." She smiles, pulling him through her door. 

Perdita chuffs her amusement.  _You can waste your time if you like, Abbie, but I'm going to show Pongo the new bed you got me......and then yes, I'll show him my, squeakers. Night you two._

_Did you say squeakers? I do like those, Crane bought me a toy that had in nine of them once, nine!_

_Pongo,_  Perdita nods to the large grey couch standing on rounded glass feet, littered with a pillow and blanket and has little rhinestones fastened into the back of it. She bats her lashes at Pongo before leaping into it, arranging herself to lie down.  _Come to bed darling_

 _Perdy,_ he hums as he settles in behind her, casually throwing a paw over her  torso, a leg twining with one of hers. He gives her ear a playful tug. 

She hums contentedly back, eyes fluttering closed. 

 _Night Perdy,_ he rumbles, continuing to nuzzle her.  _Sleep well._

* * *

 

Crane sat down on the edge of her plush king sized bed, still rather dumbfounded as to how he found himself here as Abbie vanished and then reappeared with pajamas in tow for him to change into. Silky midnight blue ones. She talks distractedly as she reenters the room, muttering half to herself and half to him as she clicks off the hall light and closes the door behind her. 

"Talk to mom or grandma? I'm not sure? what's the right way to go about this? What if----is this supposed to be a big family secret? Oh my God, what if.....did grandpa know? I have so many questions----these look like they should fit you" she stops abruptly before him, holding them out before her. Crane takes them slowly out of her hands and sets them down on the mattress and pats the opposite side for her to have a seat, he slings an arm around her shoulder. 

"Would you like my advice?"

Abbie takes a deep breath and throws her head back. "Actually, yes."

"Let's go in order of the least explosive. The one who's going to know the most about what's in that journal, will be Henry. He'll have all the answers, on his end."

Abbie nods thoughtfully. Approaching a stranger who may be her biological grandfather sounds less harrowing than possibly turning her own mother's world upside down. She leans her head on him. "And then?"

"If your talk with Henry brings up more questions.....then ask your mother."

Abbie reaches up a hand to bunch in his shirt, anxious. "If she doesn't know....."

"I'll be right there with you."

Pulling away, she wrinkles her nose and blinks at him, wondering if he's fully understood what he's just implied. "You'll come with me? Meet my mother? My parents?" she emphasizes. 

"They are humans and not dragons or mafia,  or dragon mafia, correct?" his mouth quirks. 

"Yes but still."

He sighs, shifting his hands to rub comforting circles on her back. "There is a level of terror instilling itself in my bones, now that you've mentioned it. But I've already given my word, so it's too late now, sweetheart." 

Deft fingers fiddle with the buttons on his shirt before reaching up to his neck and slipping one through the whole, one, then another, then another, pale chest being slowly revealed as she works her way down. Crane bows his head until his knocks lightly against hers and she looks up, as if startled, caught, the last button still in her fingers. "Hi," she blushes. She bites her bottom lip. "Just, getting you ready for bed,"  

Laying his hands over hers he slips the last button free and makes lets Abbie gingerly slide his shirt off his shoulders and takes her in as her eyes rake over him, the little catch of her breath before he reaches for the night shirt she'd brought him and begins sliding his arms in it. She swallows and watches as he begins buttoning it up again, from bottom to top and half way there she takes over, drawing closer to him still until their only a breath away as she fixes his collar, and pecks the corner of his mouth, letting her arms circle around his neck in an embrace. "I'm glad you're here," She whispers into his ear, lips grazing his lobe. His arms rise to crush her to him, and he inhales deeply, the warm scent of musky flowers, and coconut, a concoction of shower and lotion scents that make the tension flow out of his body  and floods his senses with her. 

"Thank you for inviting me to stay," 

She pulls back and passes her hand on his face, grazing his stubbled cheek with her thumb. Another deep breath and she withdraws, springing to her feet and turning around. He looks at her curiously before remembering he has to change his pants. He's quick about it, calling cheerily. "Done" 

She spins back around, grasping his hand and pulls him down with her, into the soft blankets and pillow, drawing his arm around her and throwing one of her own casually over him as she draws up the covers, his bare feet tangling with hers and she tilts her head back to receive a warm, heartfelt kiss, lips lingerings and pressing, about to stoke a fire to life  before he pulls away, smiling softly at her, they follow up with a few more darting, chasing kisses and then she nestles into him  and kisses her hair softly and they wish each other goodnight. 

* * *

 

Sophie and Danny are making breakfast. a well coordinated dance they've quickly perfected since he moved in. They chatter about her thesis and hedges around the cases he's working on, which only makes Sophie more persistent in her curiosity.

They're both startled when a figure lumbers into the kitchen, in Danny's pjs.

All three bodies pause.

"Oh. Good morning," Crane calls, nodding towards the coffee machine. "May I have a cup?”

"S-s-sure," Danny stammers, exchanging glances with Sophie. Did you know he was here? he asks with his eyes. Sophie widens her own in reply.

Not a clue.

"Have Perdita and Pongo come down yet?"

Sophie sets a mug down in front of him, frowning. "No, actually, and Perdita is usually very keen about her feeding schedule."

"Must still be sleeping then, I'm sorry to intrude, by the way," Crane says bashfully before he remembers something and his mind takes a turn for the wicked. He only hopes Abbie hasn't gone ahead already and ruined his fun. "How long have you two been married?" he leans forward eagerly on the counter and watches as the pair of them fluster. 

Sophie spills her own cup of coffee down her sweater. "Oooh!" she yelps, fanning herself and then running to the sink. Danny is more collected. 

"Oh....about....um....three years."

Crane's brows shoot up, eyes twinkling. "Really? Tell me how did you meet?"

"Oh, uh......well back when Abbie uh, graduated----"

"And how did you propose? I'm something of a romantic, if you'll forgive me,"

Sophie stammers. "P-p-p-pro---"

Danny sets his plate down and strides over to Sophie, extending a hand. "It was Christmas time,the whole family was gathered around and I  got down on my knee and I said, Sophie Adelaide, my whole heart and all that is worthwhile in this world, would you honour me and let me be your husband?" 

Sophie watches Danny in a sense of detached horror where he pantomimes this faux proposal with an uncomfortable depth of put on emotion and she aggressively clears her throat and coughs politely. "Oh, Daniel"

Eyes glimmering, his presses his lips to her knuckles and abruptly stands and throws an arm around her, smacking a kiss on her cheek. "And the rest is history!"

Crane watches the whole display impressed with their commitment to the script and smirks around the rim of his cup. "What a charming tale."

"Sure is!" Sophie squeaks, and then side steps hurriedly away from Danny, noisily wondering what she's going to wear instead now that she's sullied her sweater. Danny tucks into his eggs, amused and Crane eyes him, intrigued. He's one hundred percent sure the part about these two being married is false, but it crosses him there might be something brewing under the surface after all. 

"So you, uh, stayed."

Crane straightens, "Yes, I called your sister last night and she seemed distraught----"

"Grandpa,"

"......yes."

"It's.....it's a bit weird, a mess, you know? We have this idea of how things are and suddenly it's not and....it's....something else."

"I suggested Abbie might want to speak with Henry.....would you like to come with?"

"When, today? no- I-I.....a case! I've got a case and....."Danny tries hard to think of a reason why he isn't as keen on answers as Abbie is. The truth is simple, he's not ready to face it. "Let Abbie have a go at him first," He grins. "If he survives sister dearest, then I'll take a few swings."

"Oh dear it sounds like you intend to pummel the poor man," he chuckles. 

Danny gives a few practice swings in the air for show and laughs along with him. "Well, I'm glad you came to keep her company. Thanks for that. She was really out of sorts."

Crane inclines his head. "I was more than happy to be here for her. Ah, there's the rascal," Crane turns as he sees Pongo and Perdita slinking into the room. Danny's eyes light up.

"Oh! so  _this_ is the lucky man, eh Perdy? The one you've been drooling over?"

Pongo leers at his companion.  _Drool, eh?_

_Danny!_

He buts her side and flicks her with his tail.  _I drool over you to, Perdita, if it makes you feel any better._

She looks at him coyly and then sashays over to where Danny sets down her plate and then gropes around for another dish for Pongo, pouring kibbles for them both. 

"They're quite the pair," Crane muses. 

"I expect to hear wedding bells soon," 

The two men guffaw and finish their breakfast, just as Abbie finally saunters downstairs, stopping on the way to grab the front door. 

"Oh it's you."

Luke pulls a face. "Good to see you too, sunshine. Why so sour?"

"It's....a long story. And today's not your day----"

"I just saw Cynthia off and figured I'd give Perdy her morning walk, since I'm in the neighbourhood and.....well who's this!" 

Abbie glances over her shoulder to see the pair of Dalmatians saunter forward, side by side and sitting down primly. 

_Who's this Perdy?_

_Daddykins, don't worry about him. Just smile._

"That, is Perdita's boyfriend," Abbie snickers. 

Luke gasps dramatically. "So  _this,_ is the illustrious Pongo! The man after my girl's heart?"

Pongo exchanges a skeptic look with Perdita who grins widely. "Well isn't he a handsome fellow. Hi there Pongo! I'm Luke!" He stoops and beckons Pongo forward. Pongo goes, uneasily, glancing back at Perdita for assurance and then swings back around to give Luke an experimental sniff.

 _Cinnamon spice. Mmmm!_ _You smell like fall! Hello!_ He licks Luke's fingers and Luke gives a hearty laugh reaching to scratch behind Pongo's ears.  _Oh, that's good, you could give Crane a few pointers----_

 _Pongo!_ Perdita yips in her amusement as Pongo keeps leaning into Luke's touch and then unceremoniously flops on the floor, belly up for more rubs. 

"Oh there we go!" Luke chuckles, using both hands to scratch along his stomach while Pongo wags and wriggles happily. "There's a good boy! haha! Well Perdy, he's got a lovely temperament, I approve! But wait, if you're here young man, where's your father?"

"Here."Crane appears in the kitchen doorway, second mug of coffee in hand. Luke bolts upright, startling Pongo and fiddles with his hands before rushing to a wall and pretending to straighten a picture. 

Abbie cocks her head. "What are you doing?" 

"Hmm?" Luke reaches to polish a mirror with the corner of his jacket. "I'm just.....dusting!"

Another confused look. "Yes, but why?"

Luke's face goes blank with panic before he rallies. "Because, I'm the....uh...butler,  _silly!_ Tidying's Danny's house, the way I always do!  _Yeeesh_ "

Crane's mouth quirks and he gestures with his mug. "You work  _awfully_ hard sir. I couldn't imagine holding down  _three_ jobs"

A gulp. Luke feels hot under the collar. "Hmm?"

"Why," Crane saunters forward. "Aren't you the gardener for two houses, the pet sitter, and now you're the  _butler_ too?"

Abbie lifts a hand to cover her snickering. She forgot to tell the other's Crane had caught on to them. And now it seems Crane's paying them back for their charade. 

Luke gapes, dumbfounded before Abbie can hold it in no longer and Crane laughs robustly extending his hand.

"You're _very_ convincing at all three, mind you, but the games up."

"A smart alec eh Abbie? Hopefully he's a match for your cheek." Luke harrumphs before shaking himself out and flashing Crane a grin, pumping his hand up and down solidly. 

"Proper introductions then. Luke Morales, former fiance, long time best friend, put your hackles down I'm engaged to be married," he chuckles and looks over at Abbie. "Well you can tell he's digging his heels in on you already, are you sending out invitations soon?"

"Luke!" Abbie chastises, groaning in embarrassment. 

"And we share custody of Perdita. You've raised a very handsome boy there in Pongo. Any chance they'll make me grand dad soon and I can hear the pitter patter of four legged feet?" he ribs and they all fall into laughter. 

Pongo casts a curious glance Perdita's way.  _Well now, I do wonder._

Perdita sidles over to him, nipping his ear.  _You wonder **what**_ _Pongo,_ she queries slyly, batting her lashes. 

Another side ways glance and he licks her nose.  _Well I suppose time will tell._

"But it looks like I'm in time for breakfast, Danny! any eggs left!"

"Only enough for the wife!" he bellows.

Sophie, dashing back down the stairs freezes and they all turn their eyes on her. Danny saunters out with a plate and mug in hand. "Wifey! Come get your eggs before they go cold" he snickers. 

"Are you going to tell them I know?" Crane whispers. 

Abbie bites her lips together. "Not yet, I want to see how long before he breaks Sophie."

Luke promenades into the kitchen behind them relentlessly teasing. "Well after  _wifey_ here eats, I wanted to discuss a wedding detail with you." 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

"Maybe I should just forget it all."

"Treasure----"

"I'm about to make a mess of everyone's lives,"

"Treasure you don't know that----"

"Crane I am standing on the doorstep of a complete stranger to ask if he had an affair with my grandmother and is he my biological grandpa and demand why he hasn't been there all these years and-----" Crane grips her arms solidly, steading her before pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. She shudders and lets some of the tension flood out of her shoulders. She gives herself a little shake. 

It's thursday evening, and instead of Crane's usual chess game with Henry, he's brought Abbie instead, to confront the man about the journal that threw his girlfriends world into chaos over the course of the week. His mouth dries as he thinks the word 'girlfriend' it seems so young and immature for what they are, what he feels, and yet, he does feel young and giddy and bright and free with her. When he can think of a better label he'll suggest it but for now, yes, new and startlingly fast some might say, but Grace Abigail Mills is his cherished girlfriend, and he is her bookish boyfriend, and they are paying a visit to his crotchety neighbour, her probable grandfather. 

"For starters," he rumbles comfortingly, rubbing circles on her lower back. "It's less of you asking and more of him explaining how it came to be. It's very clear he was involved with your grandmother, as evidenced by that journal you have tormented me twice with this week," his mouth quirks and Abbie gives a little laugh. She squeezes his hand. 

"It just seems so insane."

Crane squeezes back and reaches forward to knock on the door. Perdita and Pongo wait patiently at their feet. "I'm with you." 

She beams at him and darts up for a kiss which he receives gladly, his hand hanging in mid air a second before remembering what he was about to do. He straightens and blinks a few times, dazed. "What was I----"

"The door," she nudges him and his face colours as he raps smartly, hearing the usual grumbling and shuffling around on the other side as Henry approaches the door.

"It took you long enou---" His voice falters when Abbie sidesteps out from behind Crane's silhouette. Henry's gaze passes over her, thrice, each time, like a scan from top to bottom, cataloguing features? Is he seeing glimpses of her grandmother in her face? She's not sure, but all at once she sees joy, give way to sorrow, and then defeat and shame in his gaze as he steps aside from the door. "I take it no chess then." he says wearily, addressing Crane.

"No, Henry." Crane replies apologetically. "I think not."

* * *

The dogs promenade past and Perdita follows eagerly behind Pongo as he picks a favourite spot to curl up on the rug, looking expectantly at her to join him. She sniffs the air and glances around the townhouse, drinking it in slowly and shooting a cursory glance over Henry as she nestles in next to Pongo. 

_Perdita darling, are you alright?_

_I'm fine Pongo. I'm....I'm more worried about Abbie. She's been so, so worked up this week---_

_Don't worry Perdy, Abbie's got Crane by her side, and you've got me._ he nudges her softly with his nose. She bats a paw playfully at him but finds herself comforted all the same. 

_We're lucky gals, then_

_No Perdita, Crane and I are the lucky ones._

For a moment all three of them stand transfixed watching the dogs on the floor together, heads waving and jaws moving as if holding a private conversation before turning their piercing blue eyed gazes on their audience as if to ask 'can we help you?'

Henry clears his throat first, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Well they've taken to each other haven't they."

"Henry," Crane prompts. 

The older man swallows and meets Abbie's gaze head on. Shakily, he withdraws a hand. "Henry Parish." he frowns. "By now,  you must know, I......I loved your grandmother."

By all means Abbie knows the man is  stranger, but after reading Grace's accounts---skipping the intimate details---- to a degree he feels familiar to her now. She's unsettled by the fact that now when she looks at the grim line of his mouth that she'd seen that same tight lip on her mother when she's stressed. Even Danny, when he's poring over a case. Dread coils in her belly and a part of her desperately wants, no needs, for none of this to be true and yet, she feels it in her gut. 

"Grace Abigail Mills." she says in a rush and steps in to throw her arms around him. 

Henry's eyes widen, stunned, paralyzed, before his own arms slowly come up around her, returning the embrace. His face scrunches. "It's nice to finally, finally meet you."

* * *

They ease down into chairs as Henry pours them tea. The journal sits on the coffee table between, like a talisman, a totem. As if it would conjure the past and answers before them. But really there is only Henry, and whatever responses he will give. 

"Could, could you tell me about yourself, Mr. Parish?"

"Henry." he corrects gently. "Former professor. Curator. Long, long time ago. Fancied myself a writer." he stirs his cup absently. "Family never did approve of that occupation. Wanted me to go into the family business instead. Manufacturing. Factory work. Groomed me for it, I hated it with my soul, but it....it was our bread and butter. We were a, cornerstone of the industry.....I'd have stuck with it though, for her. For the family we had in mind."

Abbie swallows and considers her next few words. "What.....what, happened?"

Henry's gaze bounces back and forth between Abbie and Crane before he sets the cup down and leans back in his chair. "Back in our day and age. To be as you two are," he gestures to them, sitting companionably close. Crane's hand, loosely, reassuringly resting on her knee. "It wasn't.....it wasn't an easy thing to do. Wasn't welcomed, wasn't supported. Unless you had some weight, some kind of, pull. My family business, had us in the right neighbourhood and circles and.....maybe I was, lucky, that my parents didn't outright hate Grace for who she was." his fists clench at the memory and then relax. "They.....tolerated her." he glowers,mouth twisting bitterly. "They knew I loved her. Weren't always happy about it, but I was their darling, so. And Grace, Grace was a scholar." his eyes go misty. "A poet. Did you know?" he directs this to Abbie and her face flushes. 

Some weeks ago Abbie would have said no. But perusing through Grace's diary, Grace had not only written her first person accounts, but all the other little phrases and bits and thoughts that filled her brain. So yes, Abbie now knew her grandmother to be a poet. Her heart twinges to think of Grace's beautiful curling writing. Grace can barely keep her hands still anymore these days, they shake so _terribly_ she can't write. For as long as Abbie's known her grandmother, there's a been a little tremor in Grace's hands that never seems to go away, only grow strong as the years go by.  

Abbie nods sadly. "I do now,"

Henry takes a shuddering breath. "I was going to marry her. Start a family. The folks mildly threatened to disown me, but if they'd meant to bring their foot down they'd have done so from the outset when I first brought her home. Besides who else would they leave everything too? So family tumult aside, Grace and I were to build a life together,  I loved her with my soul, but.....the industry, the family  business, everything slowed till it was grinding to a halt and then crashed and.......I couldn't afford.....I wouldn't be able to protect Grace the way I had sworn  I would. Couldn't provide and keep her safe with nothing left to my name. And my lofty scholar dreams? Those wouldn't feed anyone.......I took up janitorial work and I was doing that for some years long after we parted ways before I could think of going back to school and getting my life back on track. By then.....she'd remarried, had a child."

"My mother."

"Yes."

"Is she---"

Henry  sighs and rises wearily to his feet, strolling toward a window, his back turned towards them so they wouldn't see the tears wandering down the side of his face. He removes his glasses to swipe hurriedly at them. "The day I told Grace......that I told her we couldn't be together anymore, hurt my  _soul_ so deeply. We argued. My God, I never imagined Grace and I could yell, but yell we did. Her fighting to keep me, and I.....fighting to let her go.....To have money and power, provided a level of security and I couldn't give that to her anymore, she had to understand she could be in danger, both of us could----I couldn't let anything harm her, it  _gutted_ me to tell her, but.....all she heard was me giving up on her. On us. She called me a coward and tore from the apartment, left the journal behind. Never saw her again. Haven't heard from her since."

 _Oh,_ Perdita whines, sorrowful.  _Oh Pongo, that's so sad._

Pongo's ears droop and he nudges her.  _I know Perdita, poor man._

 _Poor **Grace**  _Perdita sniffles.  _So help me Pongo is you ever try to be so stupidly cavalier-----_

_Would you prefer to suffer together, Perdy?_

**_Yes._** She licks his nose and whines again.  _ **I'd absolutely prefer it.**_

_Well, Perdita Darling, I promise I've no reason to go anywhere._

_Make sure Crane doesn't either,_ she hedges.  _Abbie likes him---_

 _Crane would never._ Pongo assures her butting his head against hers. 

On the chair Crane reaches to grip Abbie's hand that's begun to tremble, biting her lips together and her eyes over bright with unshed tears. 

"She married a man named Roberts. A friend of hers. She'd grown up with him. Between you and me, I always suspected he had an eye on her----I suppose the haste in which he took her to the altar confirms my suspicions. Yet, while Grace and I were together, he'd.....been in our corner. Though I can't say if he meant to be cordial or to rub my nose in it when he tried to send me an invite to the wedding."

Abbie gasps, affronted, a hand flying to her chest. Her grandfather? That sweet man who had doted on her when she was growing up, bouncing her on her knee and infamously preaching about kindness when she wanted to kick Danny's shins----who knew he could have been so frightfully petty. " _No"_

Henry barks out a mirthless chuckle. "Oh yes. I never received it, had moved back home by then, trying to help mother and father recover their losses with my wages----ran into a mutual acquaintance some months later that told me "Roberts went looking around for you, meant to invite you to his wedding."  I'd said "Oh? and then he told me. Yeah! and you wouldn't believe! They've got a baby on the way." 

"Treasure?" Crane calls softly, alarmed by how swiftly Abbie's hand has gone cold in his. 

"Mama."

"I assume so." Henry looks weary and broken. "I'd been shocked, I asked him, how far along----and of course, the math didn't add  up. Not unless Grace had been playing me for some sort of fool, and I  _knew she wasn't_ " he says fiercely. He shrugs, defeated. "But then, what was I to do, at that point? I was still in no place to take care of her. And, I could only suspect----to make an accusation like that, to try to claim their daughter was in fact mine, it would have ruined her. Made a scandal. Created all sort of problems for her and......I just couldn't. I'm sorry I couldn't. I wanted to spare her so much pain and the harder I worked to do so, I just wrought more for myself, and forced her.....to find recourse on her own." He turns back to face them but remains standing. 

"He.....he passed." Abbie says. "I....she....we were all devastated, especially mama." she says pointedly. 

"Well, that at least tells me he was good to her, your mother, you." He gulps. "That he loved you all, if you missed him so."

"So much." Abbie replies. "They had....two more children together. My Aunt and Uncle. They don't live in Sleepy Hollow but they visit from time to time--- Grandma never mentioned-----"

"I would hope not. After everything. Truly, Abbie, I only gave you that journal because it doesn't belong to me. If I'd known it would unleash all of this......."

"But----"

"What is here in this room between us now besides the past dead and gone and fresh pain?" he asks, voice raw. His eyes well up and this time Henry makes no move to wipe them away. 

* * *

 

"Thank you for having us, Henry," Abbie says quietly, shaken but with a somewhat firmer grasp on things. There are more questions, of course, but less of the harrowing unknown thing it had been before.

"I'm deeply sorry to cause your lives upheaval. I.....I have a confession." Henry scrunches his eyes tight. "I did try to reach out, when your mother was an adult....." he says in a rush. "She took it _badly_ when I tried to explain. It was......It was awful. and your father...." he huffs. "Your father threatened me. Said don't ever come near his family again or he can't be held responsible for what he does." 

Abbie gapes.

Her father, he'd known? Her mother?

"I tried a few times after but they made such a racket, and he'd call the police and----If any of you would have me, I welcome it. But I wholly understand if you never want to grace my door again."

Abbie reaches forward to clasp his hands. "This was a lot to take in."

Perdita chuffs. _An understatement._

Henry nods. "I'm glad you came. That you bothered to ask, that you demanded answers of me. I'm.....I'm grateful for it."

Crane wraps an arm securely around her shoulder, kissing her temple. "We'll be going now, Henry. You might hear from us again."

Henry flaps a hand. "By all means. My door is open. Oh, Wait." he shuffles off and returns with biscuits. "For Pongo and his lady love." he offers. Pongo accepts while Perdita waits until Henry places it on the floor before sniffing it and taking a bite. When Henry reaches to pet her head she stays absolutely still and then a passing lick of his fingers which makes him laugh. "You've got a real looker here Pongo. Treat her right."

_I intend to do so Henry,_

_Hmmmph, You better._

They leave and saunter just next door where Crane lets them in and Abbie flops down at his kitchen table. "How about I order in dinner?"

Abbie looks up at him gratefully. Catching her eye he presses a kiss to her lips a hand to her cheek. "What are you in the mood for Treasure?"

"Chinese?"

"Whatever my lady wishes."

"Crane?"

"Yes Abbie?"

"Will you come with me, to talk to my parents?"

He pauses before he dials. "Of course. I told you I'd be there for you. When?"

She inhales deeply. "Sunday Dinner?" 

 


	17. Chapter 17

"Abbie? How are----yes----oh?   _ **Really,**_ "

Ezra Mills, mattress and train tycoon, perched in his favourite arm chair, feet up on the ottoman, a fire roaring near the window and the deck that opens out onto the lake glimmering blue black as evening rolls in, glances up over his glasses toward his wife on the phone. She's sashaying to and fro from one room to the next, her eyes darting about. He knows that look, that's her cataloguing for company look. Her planning face. He listens with an ear cocked in interest as his wife's voice lilts up with intrigue at the end. Finally Lori maneuvers into his vicinity, balancing herself on the arm of his chair, angling the phone between them so that he can hear. 

"Mama are you putting daddy on the phone?" his daughters voice accuses. 

Lori winks at Ezra, biting back a smile. "Hmmm? Oh no, your father is busy reading." she holds a finger to her lips, warning him to stay silent.

"Are you sure? Because you know how he is about me dating---"

Ezra perks up, straightening in his chair for a better listen, jostling Lori. "Oof."

"Mama?"

"Nothing." She shoots a death glare at Ezra who has the grace to look a little sheepish. 

"What?"

"Carry on Abbie."

She listens to Abbie hesitate before pressing forward. "You know how he gets.....weddings and grandchildren and  _heirs to the family business"_ Lori snorts at Abbie's impression of her father while Ezra pulls a face, dismayed. "I don't want him to spook Crane. What we have is really new, and I really like him but.....I just don't want to mess this up. So if you can reign daddy in, so he doesn't go booking hotels or anything for summer ceremonies---"

"Ezra would never," Lori demurs, levelling a look at Ezra who has launched the search engine on his phone, presumably about to do just that. 

"He's....my boyfriend for now. I'd like to enjoy that for a bit first."

"Yet you're bringing him home to meet,  _us"_

"......There's.....something I'd like to talk to you about......just.....I'm nervous, and he promised he'd be there with me, as support, so----"

"Abbie." Lori stage whispers. "Are you pregnant?" she nudges Ezra in the side and he all but leaps out of the chair, pressing his ear toward the cell.

Abbie splutters. "What? No! Mama no! oh, Daddy is there isn't he---you're riling him up! Can both of you please behave on Sunday? Act normal?"

"Of course my little pixie." Ezra booms jovially. 

Lori gapes at him and Abbie shouts. 

"I  _KNEW it_. Mama!"

"Sorry Abbie girl."

"Ughhhhh. See you Sunday. Sixt o'clock.  _Please_ don't scare him! Love you!" 

Lori turns to her husband and scuffs his head. 

"Ow,"

"That's for nearly taking my eye out before."

"I was just excited.....it's been a while since Abbie's seen someone."

"No one since Luke----"

"And his wedding coming up, did you respond?"

"Yesterday, on the phone with his mother," Lori chuckles, she slides off the arm of the chair and onto Ezra's lap with a plop and he shifts with a groan that earns him another glare. He grins and pats her legs. 

"So. What did she tell you about him?"

"Ichabod Crane, Professor. A dog named Pongo, who's apparently besotted with Perdita----"

"Yes yes, but is he besotted with her?" Ezra asks eagerly. 

Lori watches him, the way his eyes twinkle, amused. Ezra has been hankering for grandchildren since their son and daughter finished school. He has day dreams of the toys he'll buy, and build and the adventures he'll take them on. He's always a little overly enthusiastic about his children's romantic lives. All he wants is for his children to love their chosen partner and to hopefully give him little scamps running around calling him grandpa. Danny had been involved a young man in the city and Ezra had started hinting around what a wonderful option adoption could be----but Danny spooked and abruptly broke it off. He won't admit it, but Lori's husband has been in a bit of a sulk since. 

Especially because Danny hasn't come around since he got back into town. Ezra has peers with handsome sons and daughters-----sure-----ones Abbie refused previously, but they were still single and so was he and----

"Stop." Lori cautions. "You scared Abbie into that engagement with Luke and then scared her straight out of it. Same with Danny. You can't put that kind of pressure on them Ezra----"

"I just want them happy." he pouts, turning his face away.

"What you _want_ is someone to bounce on your knee because you're having a bizarrely late onset case of empty nest syndrome."

Ezra blusters, affronted and makes as if to push Lori off his lap. She slides off easily, laughing and teasing him.

"Said I was overreacting when they went to school." She hollers, dashing from the room. "It'll be great having the place to ourselves sweetheart! We can convert their rooms! Go on vacations!"

"Hold still so I can pack _you_ off on a vacation" he growls, giving chase. 

Lori's laughter echoes as she disappears down a hall, Ezra lumbering behind.

"You know Lori we might still be in the market for a change of life baby----"

"Ezra Mills you stay _AWAY_ from me!" 

* * *

Crane chuckles as Abbie comes off the phone. It's Friday night, and gangs all here at Abbie's. Sophie, Danny, Luke, Cynthia, he met the next door neighbour and his girlfriend, Abe and Karissa next door. Although, it wasn't so much 'met' as a reunion.

"Ichabod? Ichabod Crane?"

"Heaven help me tell me that's not Abraham Van Brunt"

"C'mere you beanpole!"

"Abe! ABRAHAM YOU GREAT _OAF_ PUT ME DOWN"

The rest had watched, amused at the spectacle as the landscaping artist swung the professor in circles before setting him on his feet and roughly ruffling his hair. Abbie can barely contain a snicker as she looks at Crane, red faced and disheveled.

"I hate you." he grouches. Abe laughs.

"You two know each other" Luke observes, intrigued.

Crane makes a vain attempt to straighten his shirt. "Old classmates..... I left home before he did......"

"So are you mortal enemies or......"

Cynthia rolls her eyes. "Abbie's right you know Luke, you have a flare for drama."

Chortling Crane reaches up and musses Abe's hair in turn and reaching very precisely for a sleeve gives it a sharp tug, ripping the fabric.

"Ichabod!"

"Still buying that brand eh." Crane sneers.

Karissa exchanges a glance with the rest and whispers. "I think the word might be frenemies."  

The group looks on with interest as the two men square each other up and then burst into laughter. 

"Some things never change." Abe mutters. "What are the odds you ended up here in Sleepy Hollow? Why didn't you say?"

"You know I didn't keep up with anyone once I left, I was thrilled to finally be free."

"Oh. Sorry, let me just go tip toeing back next door."

"Bah." Crane flaps a hand. "Well, it is a small world. Don't think we're going to take up like old times again life is very different now and I don't go out and----"

"And you're courting Abbie." Abe grins. "I'm also, a different man now, Crane. This is Karissa, light of my life."

Crane blinks, astonished. He'd known Abe to be a puzzling combination of cantankerous and surly. Certainly someone women pined for but often found themselves left behind. To see the man looking all soft and warm eyes now. He turns to her. "A pleasure to meet you. How did you manage to tame this rogue?"

She flashes a smile that reaches up to crinkle her eyes. "I like this one, Abbie." she grins. "I'm so glad to finally meet you. I hope Abbie will keep you around."

"So long as he survives dinner on Sunday." Abbie jokes, herding them all around the table. 

Chauncey and Emilia prance after Pongo and Perdita, nattering the latest gossip. 

 _I think it's going to be any day now!_ Emilia pipes. 

_Really?_

_He's been out shopping!_

Pongo chuckles. Chauncey wags happily beside him. Perdita grins. 

 _All this wedding talk,_ she purrs.  _Might start giving people ideas._

* * *

 The evening is in full swing, the food, the drinks, a game on the tv when there's a clatter from Sophie opening the front door. "Kat's here!" she hollers.

Kat staggers in among them, face pale. The surrounding mood immediately dims. "Kat?" Abbie queries.

"The sodding idiot." she rasps, making a beeline for the kitchen and pouring herself a full glass of wine. She takes a seat and a hearty gulp,  clearly distressed. 

Cynthia edges forward. "What's going on?"

"Solomon's left his wife."

A round of uneasy looks. Is this good news? Bad? 

"....Con...grat...u...lations?" Luke tries. 

Kat downs the rest of her glass and slumps on the table. " _Crap_." 


	18. Chapter 18

"What's that noise?" Ezra asks, straightening his collar and brushing out non existent wrinkles in his trousers. 

Lori peels the curtain aside and looks out at the sweeping beam of lights that follows after the rumbling motor, turning down the path. She squints. "I think it's them"

"Can't be that sounds like a motorcycle----"

"It  _is_ Ezra" Lori says, hastily moving aside when Ezra shoves himself in view. 

Sure enough, there's Ichabod helping Abbie down from the seat, taking great tender care removing her helmet, some hushed murmured exchange between them before Abbie laughs and smiling, Crane reaches to help her fluff and fix her curls. 

Lori lays a hand on her heart, touched. "He's fixing her hair, isn't that precious Ezra, Ezra?"

"He owns a motorcycle!" he whispers excitedly. "My son in law drives a motorcycle! That's so  _cool!_ "

"Ezra," Lori warns, tugging him away from the window. "What did Abbie say about behaving this evening."

"But----"

"No proposals have been made. She says this is still quite new----"

"Yes but-----"

"And we aren't going to ruin this for her, are we?" She arches a brow in a stern fashion, daring him to argue. 

"No, but-----"

**_"Ezra"_ **

"Fine!" he blusters, just barely catching sight of Abbie twining her fingers with her date before ambling up the driveway. "Get the door, get the door!" he blusters, nearly bowling his wife over. 

"Ezra they haven't even knocked!"

* * *

 

"Last chance to bolt," Abbie teases, meandering painfully slow up the cobbled walk. Her parents property is an ostentatious lake house, panoramic views, sturdy, strongly built, elegant craftsmanship, it's glorious in a way that both belongs yet stands at odds with the woodsy surroundings. It seems to magnificent to believe people live here, every day. It makes her home seem humble. 

"Wouldn't dream of it Treasure." he squeezes her hand reassuringly. "Unless that is that  _you_ wish to bolt," he laughs softly, noting how her steps seems to grow impossibly smaller, and whether she knows it or not, she begins to tug him in the opposite direction.

"This is a mistake," she huffs, noting the shock on Crane's face she quickly rallies. "Not you, meeting them, I want that, I really do, but Crane they're such ridiculous people and----"

"You _do_ recall I've met your friends?"

Abbie laughs and her face flushes. "Well imagine my ridiculous friends, but amplified." 

"Abbie darling you're over reacting about this."

"I'm sure my father has picked out china patterns."

"China, patterns?" Now Crane slows, perplexed. 

"For the wedding."

"Wedding!"

"I'm sure he's got a venue picked out----" she frets. 

"You've lost me Treasure," 

"My father is mad for grandchildren, _mad_ for them he----No, let's.....we'll say we got lost, let's just go"

Shaking himself out Crane chuckles. "If it weren't for the fact that I caught your parents peeking at us through the window the plan might have worked," he cajoles. 

"Please don't take anything they say to heart." She pleas.

"Abbie----"

"And this Henry business, I shouldn't mention that tonight either, what made me think it was a good idea to introduce you and probe about grandma in one night----"

"Treasure," Crane frowns, drawing her close. "Breathe, alright? with me, in, out, in, out, there we go,"

"You're too good to me,"

"Nonsense. Now," 

"Welcome!" the doors burst open and Ezra strides outside with arms flung wide. His exuberance spooks Abbie and Crane both who jolt guiltily apart even though they were engaged in nothing untoward. "Professor Crane!" Ezra booms, pumping Crane's hand up and down vigorously, clapping him on the back. "Ezra Mills, of Mills Mattress and Metro industries! It's Trains, but the alliteration was good for marketing. Come in! come in!"

"Daddy," Abbie  groans, rolling her eyes. 

"My little girl. Now why didn't Daniel come with you?"

"Probably the same reason I was dreading walking through the front door," she huffs. 

Chuckling, Ezra wraps his daughter in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet. 

"Daddy!" she shrieks. 

Every where else in her life she is a fashionable, artistic, savvy, intelligent woman. But once she's back home, she's a little girl who sometimes can't quite get around her parents larger personalities. Her mother appears in the doorway, making tutting noises. 

"Ezra," She scolds. She turns to Crane and elegantly extends a hand. "Lorelei Mills, but I go by Lori. Welcome to our home, it's lovely to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine." Crane replies smoothly. He shoots Abbie a sympathetic look as she shakes out her dress and swats her father's hands away. 

"You're messing up my hair and Crane just fixed it!" she grumps.  

"Abbie girl come here." Lori beckons and Abbie gladly goes to her mothers more sensible embrace. 

"He's going to scare him off mama" Abbie frets. "I just know it----"

"Not if I can help it. Now come on. I hope you're both hungry!"

"Famished," Crane grins. 

Lori pats his arm, guiding them in the house. "Good, I made all of Abbie's favourites, Ez--Ezra!"

"Hmm?" Ezra has meandered down to Crane's bike, walking around it, examining it with keen interest. 

"You can ask about the cycle after dinner!" Lori hisses. 

"Ah, yes, but, ah----"

"You have until the count of five or I lock the doors and you go without supper!" she huffs indignantly, turning back around. "One, two,"

"I was just curious what model---"

 ** _"FOUR_** "

Clamping his mouth shut Ezra sprints up to the door and smacks a kiss on his wife's cheek. "Let's eat!" he grins, closing the door behind him. Lori rolls her eyes to the ceiling. 


	19. Chapter 19

"More mash potatoes Ichabod?"

"No thank you Mrs. Mills---"

"Please call me Lori,"

Crane inclines his head briefly, a small smile flitting over his lips. He's not sure what Abbie was so flustered about, her parent are warm, charmingly friendly people. 

"Lori," he amends. "I'm stuffed to the gills,"

"Oh go on son as if being full has ever stopped me from having thirds and fourths," Ezra chuckles jovially. 

Abbie lightly rolls her eyes as she reaches for the aforementioned mash potato bowl. Maybe while Ezra and Crane are distracted she can sneak an extra scoop or two. As she places the bowl back in the middle of the table Abbie's eyes meet with her mothers and Lori shoots her a conspiratorial little smirk. As Abbie lifts her fork again she contemplates her mothers features, looking for something of Henry in them. She's already decided they have similar frowns, but there is also something in their manner, the baring, that the more she notices it, the more it jars her. Lori has a way of being very present and intense when she needs to be, but also can hold her self apart and aloof, as she is now. Calmly looking out over the dinner table, listening to the scrape of fork and knife and Ezra chatting away. Her gaze passes in his direction, a little weary of his exuberance but then settles on Abbie again, calm, serene. 

"Tell me son," Ezra interjects and it takes everything in both Mills women not to groan. Only Crane seems to be quite taken and amused with this quick induction into the family, no matter how absurd.  "How long have you been down at the University? Your subjects?"

"HIstory and Lit, Mr----"

"Dad," he beams.

Abbie squeaks her shock and opens her mouth to reprimand her father before Lori rises, perhaps saving them all. " Everyone finished? I'll clear the table, Abbie, let's have a little walk out back, catch up. Coffee and dessert in a few minutes." 

Ezra huffs before pushing back from the table and grabbing for his plate and Lori's. "How about you help me clear the table," he offers. 

"Sure thing Pop," Crane jokes and shoots his scandalized girlfriend a wink. 

"That's my boy!" Ezra booms and away the men go, disappeared into the kitchen. 

"If Crane dumps me after today it'll be daddy's fault." Abbie grumps as she follows her mother onto the back patio. Lori hangs back and grabs two cardigans from the coat tree by the back door, offering one to Abbie as she meanders down the steps to meet her. 

"If he dumps you i'll slaughter your father, don't worry." She comforts, patting her daugther's arm warmly. 

That startles a snicker out of her and Lori steers them down onto the sandy shore. There's a long dock and a boat bobbing there, waiting eagerly for it's first voyage. Lori gifted it to Ezra on his last birthday. He's been determined not to take it out on the water until there was a special occasion to commemorate it. His own birthday hadn't seemed important enough, yet. 

It's an unspoken fact but both women known Ezra's taken it into his mind that one of his children might get engaged on the deck. He has fanciful dreams of being a co-conspirator with his children's suitors and helping them plan a perfect proposal at which point Ezra would just handily suggest "Why, Son/daughter/my child, you could use my vessel! I'll drive!" 

Abbie's gaze passes over it now, a shimmering hazy vision of herself burbling happily, 'yes yes of course' it come and goes so abruptly she gasps with the shock of it. You're worse than Daddy, she chastises herself, giving her head a hard shake. 

Lori pauses next to her taking it in. "So. He's very nice," she starts slyly. 

"Oh Mama." Abbie drawls, unsure if she means to scold her mother or swoon over the man in question. Maybe both. 

"I saw you when you arrived, he was fixing your hair and that was so sweet, Abbie, so beautiful. It might be bold of me to say but it seems he cherishes you."

"Oh, I don't know abou---I mean, he, well." Abbie shuts up at the knowing look on her mothers face. Abbie is so rarely tongue tied. "He takes care of me? I guess. He's very considerate. Doting, if I'd let him, but he doesn't insult me with it, you know?"

"Of course not. He's smart. I'd say almost as smart as you." 

Abbie snorts "Almost." 

"Tell me more about him. Honestly. Without your father looming." She meanders towards the lounge chairs and Abbie curls up on the one across from Lori, her brow scrunching in thought. 

"I wasn't sure he'd like me, at first. Because, you know," she gestures grandly to encompass the lakefront property and Lori nods her understanding. It can overwhelm some. "He came from a family who are society people, and, I guess they're not very nice to each other. I tried to hide who I am at first."

An intrigued, raised brow. "And how did you do that?" 

"I lied? Told him the house belonged to Daniel and Sophie----Mama" another defeated groan when Lori starts to cackle. 

"Daniel and Sophia---- _My_ Danny? And  _Sophie_? husband and wife? oh you do tell tall tales Abbie girl, tell me he didn't buy it."

"Not for a minute!" she huffs, and then begins to laugh. "Told me so that very night I wasn't fooling anyone." She face palms and continues to laugh. "Saw right through me."

"But he didn't mind?"

"No....I think the group won him over. "

"The group?"

"Oh, they were all there. Sophie and Danny blabbed so they all came to meet him and----"

"Well what did you say, that Danny and Sophie were having a dinner party?"

"......I said they were their  _help_ "

Lori's lips twitch and she settles back in the chair, tickled. "I should have brought the wine."

* * *

 

After clearing the dishes they stride into Ezra's study. An ostentatious space, filled to the brim with books and littered with hand crafted models of locomotives and aircraft, a few classic cars in between. "This is a lovely room," Crane murmurs appreciatively. Truth be told, the room hits him with a wave of nostalgia. His own father had had a room similar. More military vehicles and figures though, he'd learned his love of history at his father's knee back in that study, although he was often sharply reprimanded for trying to touch the structures. His hands itch with curiosity now as he leans over a locomotive when Ezra startles him from where he rummages in a cupboard, crystal decanter in hand. "Scotch?"

"Oh no no,----"

"It's a very good year," Ezra insists, proffering a glass but Crane staunchly, politely refuses. 

"Driving  back tonight. With Abbie, no less. I wouldn't dare take the risk."

Ezra eyes him shrewdly before his lips pull into a slow smile. "Smart man." he nods, and then throws his drink back. Crane blinks rapidly. Hold on, he wonders, was that a trap? a test?

"How about a cigar?"

"Absolutely not." he answers, honestly, but also a bit quickly, and Ezra raises a brow. "I mean, no, I'm not a smoker, never been one."

Satisfied, Ezra nods again and then promenades around the room. There's a different baring to him now, away from wife and child. A sort of warmth creeps under Crane's collar which he quickly recognizes as nerves. "Do you travel,"

"Not as much as I would like, I'm afraid."

Ezra pauses, considering this before continuing his stroll. Crane falls in line behind him, sensing he's meant to follow. "It's good for a body to have a sense of the world, more than the quiet, comfy little bubble they're use to. Adventuring makes you bold, makes you brave."

"Yes....."

Curiosity piqued Ezra turns to face him. ".... _But?_ " he wheedles .

"Some souls are natural wanderers, some not. I would love to travel, of course but I've more or less always been happy here. I enjoy my job and life here. And I don't much travelling alone."

"Well you're in luck there, Abbie adores seeing the world. She was in Bali last summer. That some place you'd like to see?"

"Well---"

"Thailand?"

"Oh, I haven't considered----"

"Whether you have or not, if she invited you, you would go, wouldn't you?"

Crane grinds to a halt to gather his thoughts, getting the distinct feeling he's being lead around. "I have never been a blind follower, Mr. Mills,"

Ezra's posture shifts, noting the distance in Crane's tone. Not sheepish, or ashamed to have lost the early camaraderie, but as if pulling himself to height, to defend, or launch an attack. Still, Crane presses on. 

"I follow my instincts and my heart. And I am in command of how fully I give and trust either of those things. Would I follow her to the ends of the Earth? While a romantic and desperate picture I would refrain from putting either of us in a position to face a situation so destitute----"

"But say you were. Say you were on some path together that suddenly got dangerous and risky and the options were to follow it together, braving or hells, or go it alone----"

"I will always act in the best interests of those I love." Crane fires back, getting the sense they're not talking about travel anymore at all but something darker and by gone. Alluding to an impossible choice that Crane is _not_  about to pay penance by answering for. 

"Even if that choice could hurt them beyond repair---"

"If that choice could spare their lives and heartache---"

"And you would make peace with it" Ezra demands sharply. "Once that choice has been made it cannot be undone----"

"To ask someone to make a tough choice and then forget it is cruel and unfair." Crane grits. "I would forever wonder after someone I loved if we had been forced to part ways, yes, even by my own doing. I would not dare hope for everything to go back to the way it was but be assured I would care for them, to know how they are, what has become of them, to see them alive and well---I......I couldn't not help but want that. Love is not always what is best for  _our own interests_ but for the one you cherish----and yes that choice can hurt like hell."

Ezra's gaze is stony. 

"But to see them, safe, happy, that, that would give me peace. And I'd hope they could understand that love makes fools of us all, in the height of wanting to love them so completely that we could ruin it just as much. But that doesn't make it any less true. Or pure."

It's only when he's finished that Crane realizes he'd raised his voice and the horror of it strikes him, feeling queasy all at once. 

Ezra regards his glass and fills it again, takes a swig and swills it a moment in his mouth, thinking. He claps a hand on Crane's shoulder, a solid warm grip and Crane holds his breath. 

Waiting for the speech that was perhaps delivered to Henry, when he'd warned the man away from his family. 

"You feel things very strongly." he says evenly, perhaps even respectfully. "I think I know all I need to know about you, Ichabod Crane." 

"Mr. Mills."

"Please, Ezra, dad," he cajoles, the happy jovial man reappearing. 

Very tentatively, the knot that had begun taking form in Crane's stomach begins to loosen. He gives Crane a few solid pats on the back. "Let's rejoin Lori and Abbie, hey? How do you feel about pie---"

"I-I-I love, it," Crane manages. 

"Good, good." he strides ahead, pausing at the door way to set his tumbler down. He looks over his shoulder and meets Crane's gaze, dead on. "What you said before, about choices.....I'd never thought of it that way." 

And exits the room.

For a moment, Crane looks longingly at the bottle of scotch and direly considers a drink to help him cope with the ordeal he just endured, but when he looks back to the door way, Ezra is just on the other side of the hall, watching him carefully to see if Crane will cave. 

Shaking out his shoulders Crane crosses the hardwood floor to join him. "You're a very manipulative man." he grunts unabashedly.

Ezra barks a loud robust laugh. "And astute too. And you're right, I apologize, I'm just...."

"Protective, of your family." Crane bristles, looking up at the back door where Abbie slides across the glass. "You might consider you're not the only one who wants to protect them." he hisses before beaming a smile at Abbie as she glides over to him. Her eyes sweeping from head to foot as if checking that he's in one piece. 

Ezra's mouth quirks. "Dually noted."

"Who wants pie!" Lori chimes as she breezes in from the kitchen. 

Crane and Ezra share another glance. Another nod, understanding passing between them. 

* * *

 

After the pies have been served and the mood of the evening lightens, Crane gives Abbie's hand a light squeeze under the table, a gentle reminder. 

Ezra catches on to the change on Abbie's face and so does Lori. Dropping napkins, Lori leans forward. 

"Abbie? what's wrong something not agreeing with you?" She jumps slightly at the feel of Ezra taking her hand in his, the warm pressure of it. She looks over at him, confused. 

"Mama? I....I need to ask you something about grandma......"

Lori furrows her brow, "Yes?"

Abbie swallows and takes a shuddering breath. "I met Henry Parish. He says.....he had grandma's diary he......Mama, is he...could he be....."

Ezra feels Lori's hand tighten on his own as she replies. "My father?" 


End file.
